


Teach Me How To Fly

by ChestOfStories



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Season/Series, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-02-16 19:02:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 41,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18697387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChestOfStories/pseuds/ChestOfStories
Summary: An utterly alternative reality of Shadowhunters universe where things went in some ways differently than in the original books' and show's versions. It takes place two weeks after Clary Fray has discovered a whole new world her mother has been concealing from her, and her path among the Shadowhunters begins to unravel as she tries to find her place in the world from scratch.





	1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1 — THE SIN CITY**

"I know it's a strange time to send any of our hunters away, but I'm afraid we need this recon mission."

Robert Lightwood stood by the window looking out, his hands connected behind his back. The fleeting thought of him as father still felt misplaced in the Head Office. Younger Lightwoods rarely saw them outside of that status quo and got used to it. Only sometimes Alec still caught the small, human part of him deep down longing to be back to Idris for at least one day and feel the different kind of connection.

Alec frowned, pushing the annoying thoughts away, and did his best to focus on the task at hand.

"There are too many traces of demonic activity in Las Vegas in the recent months, and we cannot ignore or postpone that any longer." Robert turned and gave him a smile – one full of warm authority, with a glint in his eye that shot an arrow of fatherly connection into his son. "I'm sending my best ones," he added and nodded with reassurance. "You and Isabelle depart tomorrow via the Portal. Jace shall stay here and maintain the search of any traces of Valentine and the Cup. The Fairchild girl, Clarissa… We have decided to send her with you two."

Alec's eyes widened a tad, selling out his surprised defiance. He didn't flinch, nor tried to voice his objections, but his father read them all loud and clear in his momentary glance.

"She is in danger anywhere outside the Institute, as you know. And even in this city. She has been raised as a mundane and her life has changed so drastically in the recent two weeks, we all have to lend some understanding. It's hard for her to not maintain the contact with the only friendly connection she has left from her previous life – that Simon boy – but it's not completely safe, even if she doesn't leave these walls. We thought that a change of location and, perhaps, some vivid example of what her lineage is about could distract her a little from missing her human life and inspire some memories we might find useful. Do you understand the necessity of this?"

"I do," Alec said without hesitation, feeling all kinds of an outrage on the inside.

Robert smiled again, that warm smile of fatherly approval. Alec took no solace in it, his mind reeling from the news. His father knew it; and he approached, stood before Alec, his hands squeezing the son's shoulders like back when he was a kid and showing good progress with his weapons of choice.

"It's going to get better," Robert said, holding Alec's eyes with his. "I know you would like it much better to go with Jace and Isabelle, but who else would I entrust this girl if not to you two? We believe it's best to allow her out where her enemies wouldn't expect her to be."

"I understand."

He nodded, squeezed Alec's shoulders again and let go. "Thank you, Alexander. This would be all."

Alec did a courteous bow and left the Head Office. His feet were carrying him to Izzy's room.

* * *

Clary fingered the stone around her neck, the last gift she'd received from her mother and the final thread she had that could be linked to Jocelyn. Clary's thoughts returned to Luke, but she didn't want to think about him. She'd found he wasn't the man she'd known. He didn't care for her and he didn't care for her mother, he admitted as much. Clary had heard him and happy birthday to her! Her quasi-father didn't give a shit about her and she was now having to come to terms with the fact that there were demons out there ready to stab, suck and literally bite her face off and that she had no idea how to turn it all back off again.

She wasn't even sure she wanted to. How could she when there was so much she now knew beneath her nose? How could she even contemplate it when she had no idea where her mother was and if Simon was at risk? The latter problem she'd taken care of – at least tried.

She had attempted to sneak out of the Institute on multiple occasions to check on him, to let him know that she was alive (aware of how worried he'd be) but you wouldn't believe the security in this place! It was out of this world. Nephilim soldier shadow hunter whatever was at every post, magical security surveillance and a series of wards set in place merely to keep her inside.

Clary missed him, missed the comfort his presence provided and the fact that, unlike these supposed half-breed angels around her, he cared and understood her urgency for answers.

They'd shared information, of course, promised that answers would come and that they were working on things and that she should take it easy and let the professionals handle it (not that they said that in as many words). She was growing impatient, jaded and undecidedly insane.

She needed air, fresh air, and a break from the magical lectures, instruction on various demons that were both nightmare-inducing and nauseating, and bruising fight regime they'd introduced her to. Apparently, she was fifteen years behind on her supernatural education and had a lot to catch up on, a task they'd tried to cram down her throat for twelve hours of a twenty-four-hour day. Not that they had succeeded, but at a pace of two weeks that would kill just about anyone and she was barely holding on.

Gratefully, Clary still found time to draw, ungratefully, her art seemed to revolve around sporadic bouts of graffiti she'd come to learn was actually called "runes" and a certain Nephilim boy.

She snapped shut the notebook they'd provided her and slipped it into hiding under her mattress, pulled on the boots (and other clothes that Isabelle Lightwood had given her since she wasn't allowed to return home or reach out to anyone else) and made her way out of her room, heading for the cafeteria to grab a snack before the greenhouse.

She had to give it up to the angels, they really knew how to look after their people, and the cafeteria was filled with an assortment of stuff to nourish everyone's palette.

A weird thing when you thought about how military-like they were. Their attire, their mannerisms, their general rules, and laws.

She'd spend the last week learning them, coming to learn most the hard way, and she'd barely even scraped the surface. There were rules for everything. How to conduct yourself in the Institute, how to deal with other races, from mundane, which, in her opinion (and the way Alec said it) was an insulting term for ordinary humans, to vampires and werewolves. From what Clary understood, they even had different diplomacies with each that was to be followed strictly.

She wasn't able to eat much and she doubted she would be able to until she was reunited with her mother and Simon. The training helped alleviate that frustration.

She sat down at one of the tables, picking at her plate and the breakfast muffin she'd selected.

Isabelle's phone was on speaker, blasting out song after song from one of her playlists as she got dressed for the day. She'd just finished showering after her usual early morning training session, which was always the boost she needed to truly wake her up, and today was no exception.

She dressed quickly, forgoing the skimpier of her outfits since they had no missions requiring her playing bait on the agenda, and pulled her chest of weapons out from under her bed. It was a heavy old thing, an antique passed down to her from her paternal grandmother, Phoebe. She'd died the year Isabelle was born and the girl had no memories of her, a few of her keepsakes the only things that reminded Izzy that she had ever even been alive. That and the photos her father kept stashed away.

She'd been a formidable woman, and Izzy had always admired her for it.

Isabelle opened the lid on the chest and lifted a few of her daggers from the top compartment, examining them carefully to make absolutely certain they were clean and sharp and ready for use.

She looked up when there was a knock at her door, slipped two daggers into the holster around her thigh, and moved to open. On the other side, she found her brother, looking severely somber. More so than usual even, if that was possible.

"What's wrong?"

She stepped aside so he could come inside and closed the door behind him.

Alec noticed her smile flare and die down at the sight of his preoccupied expression, and it was unfortunate, but he had never tried to hide anything he felt from his sister. She was probably the only being that knew him best.

"We've been assigned a mission," he informed her and walked past her into the room. Her armory chest was sitting at the bed, open. She was about to start her training.

He considered sitting down, but couldn't quite settle yet, his body buzzing with irritation he couldn't rule down as fast as he wished to.

"We're going to Vegas. But you know what else?" He turned to her, sardonic. "That redhead goes with us."

"Vegas!" Isabelle's good mood immediately spiked again but she wasn't allowed much of a celebration before the reason for his annoyance became clear. "Clary? Why? Is the mission Valentine-related?"

Like her brother, she'd initially been skeptical of Clary Fairchild. Not because she was a stranger or because she'd been raised as a mundane, but because her presence had thrown their trio dynamic out of whack. Isabelle and 'her boys', that was. Jace had taken an immediate liking to the girl and with that came uncharacteristic and unpredictable behavior on his part, making what should have been even the simplest of missions become dangerous and tasking.

But over the past couple of weeks, Clary had spent with them, some of Izzy's resentment had faded. Clary was just a girl who'd been abruptly thrown into a world she knew nothing about, scared and lonely and missing her family. It wasn't her fault. Besides, her training thus far had proven she had potential.

"It's a recon mission due to some unexplained demonic activity," Alec explained, "and Valentine is always a potential reason. But they send her with us because they want us to babysit her in another city.

"Why is that even fair? I'm not a babysitter! I want to just do my work with no kids around to watch over. She'll get us in trouble someday, mark my word."

It was rare for Alec to vent his frustrations to anyone other than her and Jace, and that was probably part of the reason they were so close. They knew each other's secrets and kept them, offering advice where they could, and were generally always there if anyone in their trio needed anything.

That didn't quench her slight amusement at Alec's newest source of irritation.

"Well, it'll be a nice change of pace from Jace getting us in trouble," she teased, closing her weapon chest. "Besides, she needs to learn. Who better to observe than the cream of the crop?"

"I'll take Jace brand of trouble any time over a little girl that needs constant supervision." Alec frowned at her additional comment. "Stop channeling our father, it doesn't really help anything. Why not let Jace babysit her? He's one of us and he likes it. He likes her! Somehow. Why does she have to be my problem? It's counterproductive, is all I'm saying."

He heaved an irked sigh and lowered in the chair.

"Maybe he's worried Jace is getting too close? That she's a distraction to his work?" Izzy shrugged, hauling the chest off her bed and depositing it onto the floor before pushing it back in its place. "I assume that is why he's not joining us on this mission."

She placed her hands on her hips, observing the miserable expression on Alec's face.

"You're looking at this all wrong, big brother. We're going to Vegas! It's party central!" She doubted they'd be able to actually join in on any of the festivities. They rarely did. But at least they could watch, feel the excited energy of the mundanes dancing the night away. "It'll be nice to get out of The Institute for a while. How long are we going for?"

Alec scowled when she went for what she always chased - the party. He saw no point in partying when there was a whole world of work to do.

Her comment about Jace, however, rang true. He would be distracted more than was safe.

"He said nothing about when we're coming back," he shrugged. "Until further notice. We're going tomorrow. And Izzy, please, don't make me remind you why we're going. It's not a party - it's our mission."

She was already looking through her various dresses hanging on the rack next to her wardrobe, mentally choosing which to pack and which to leave behind. At his comment, she turned to flash Alec a look of warning over her shoulder.

"The day I fail to do my job because of a party is the day I'll allow you to chide me for it. Not before."

And despite her appreciation of fun, she'd yet to get distracted enough to neglect her duties. Alec knew that. Yet he worried. He worried about her a lot.

She turned to eye her clothes again. "Guess I'll pack for the long haul, then. Have you told Clary?"

Indignation flashed in his face. "Of course not. That'd be your task."

"Yeah, I figured." Alec avoided Clary whenever he could. "Are you going to be able to be civil on this trip?"

He gave her a mock reprimanding look. "I'm always civil."

"It's cute that you think that," she grinned, turning to face him again. "Have you had breakfast? I was just about to make some."

Alec made a face at the remark, and the scowl got deeper as she voiced the addition. "We have the diner. You don't have to cook. You have no time for it. And no, I'm not hungry. I need to go training."

"I like cooking." And she was decent at it. Would have been better if Mom had decided to teach her, but alas, Shadowhunter training took precedence. Still, she always cooked for herself whenever her schedule allowed it.

"I'll find Clary first, though. So she has some time to prepare."

"Prepare for what? Making our mission harder? She doesn't need to prepare for that - it comes naturally to her. She might not be a mundane by blood, Izzy, but she's one in her mind. And it can be lethal."

Isabelle sighed. "Cut her some slack, Alec. She didn't ask for any of this. Least of all to come with us on this mission."

"I'm not saying she asked for it. All I'm saying is she needs to tone down her rebellious urges to make rash decisions and thus create troubles for us. Meaning she needs to try to not be a mundane. Which you tell me she isn't."

"She survived the rune, Alec. And her parents are well-known Shadowhunters. Let's not start contesting those facts, hmm?"

"I'm not an imbecile, Izzy, I know she's not a mundane by blood. Like I said before. All I would like for this trip is for her to at least try to be less of a mundane. To just make it a bit easier to keep her protected. She lets her raging emotions rule her every move and impulse."

"True. But all the previous missions she has accompanied us on have been personal to her. This isn't. So perhaps it will be easier for her now."

Or so Isabelle hoped. Not that she didn't have her own flaws in that area – her temper especially – but it had rarely gotten in the way of their work.

Alec leaned his head back against the chair, his eyes closing as he covered his face with his hands for a moment, attempting to vent his thoughts and focus.

Then, he got up and started for the door.

"I'd like to hope, but it's a bit too much to hope for."

"Try not to worry excessively, brother," she said, following him to the door so she could go find Clary. "You're not alone in this."

Alec left her with a parting inscrutable look, closed her door behind her and muttered, "Why do I feel like I am, then?"

He shook his head and went for the training hall.

_Because you can never relax even just a little bit. That's why._

Isabelle didn't voice those thoughts though, seeing as he was already striding away from her. She moved in the opposite direction, seeking out Clary's assigned bedroom. She wasn't there, so Isabelle turned on her heel and followed her brother to the training hall to check if the redhead had decided to get some extra training in. But she wasn't there, either.

"Hey Raj, have you seen Clary?" Isabelle asked one of her fellow warriors in passing.

"Valentine's daughter?" he responded, causing her to arch a brow. He knew her name. Everybody did and yet most still referred to her as Valentine's daughter. Like an insult. "I saw her heading for the cafeteria a little while ago."

It was fairly empty this time of day; most had already had breakfast and it was too early for lunch. Isabelle never liked to eat before her morning training sessions, however, and therefore often made use of this place when it was near abandoned. Only today, Clary was here. She was sitting at one of the tables by herself, looking as miserable as Alec had just minutes ago, prodding at an equally sad-looking muffin.

It didn't escape Clary that most the other Nephilim didn't like to sit with her, as if she were contagious or like everyone knew some weird secret that she hadn't been privy to.

She guessed it had to do with fraternizing with the enemy.

Thankfully, those that Clary had met – Jace, Isabelle, and Alec (when he had to), didn't seem to have the same kind of standoffishness. The only other people that talked to her was her trainer and one of the official Clave members she knew to be the Lightwood father.

Isabelle dropped down in the chair next to her and flashed a small smile. "Hey, Red."

"Hey," she greeted, looking up from her plate. "What's up?"

Isabelle leaned an arm on the back of her chair, considering Fray carefully. "Have you ever been to Las Vegas?"

"No. Mom wasn't much for traveling. Why?"

"We're going," Isabelle said, smiling slightly. "Tomorrow. You, me and Alec. We have a mission."

She wondered how Clary would feel about that. Especially leaving Jace behind for a bit when he was the one who had tried the hardest to make her feel at home and comfortable.

"A mission?" Clary asked dumbly.

_Us? As in, the three of us? What about the information on my mother? Simon?_

Las Vegas wasn't exactly a hop skip and a jump from New York City.

"What kind of mission? Is it to do with my mother? Is Jace going?"

She hadn't listed him in the shortfall of names and the fact that he wasn't in it was kind of a surprise since he'd been one of the few people to keep a consistent eye on her. Not that she'd seen him much lately.

"A mission," Isabelle repeated, getting to her feet to grab a glass of orange juice from the cold display counter. "There have been reports of increased demon activity in Vegas lately and the institute is sending us to investigate."

She took a sip and turned to watch Clary, leaning back against the counter.

"Most likely it has nothing to do with your Mom. But we don't know yet. And no, Jace is staying here. He has other responsibilities."

Searching for the Mortal Cup and Valentine being among them if Isabelle knew her parents. And she did.

This made sense to Clary and every inch of her was happy about getting out into the world again as she was beginning to feel like a bit of a prisoner, but it didn't feel like she should be out there. Not in the capacity of a mission.

She fought well enough, she was sure that she could help if need be, the problem was she wasn't exactly sure she wanted to be there, to face another one of those tentacle-faces dogs.

Clary still had nightmares.

She shuddered at the thought, pushed aside her unfinished muffin and moved to stand. "Do I get a weapon?"

Isabelle smirked against the rim of her glass, taking another sip before assuming an expression that was downright Alec-like. "If you promise to wield it responsibly." As for what kind of weapon, Isabelle didn't want to decide just yet. It would highly depend on their situations. "But this is a recon mission. Most of the time that means surveillance and collecting information, not fighting. It's a good opportunity for you to learn more about our world and how we work."

Clary had to admit that she was kind of excited about wielding a weapon, the closest she'd come before was a butter knife and she'd lost to black toast quite often.

She smiled, although it hadn't quite touched her eyes. "What about Simon? Is there any way I can get a message to him?"

Isabelle drew a breath, wincing sympathetically. She felt for her, she really did, but not enough to put everyone in danger. "I don't think that's a good idea, Clary. We're all safer if no one outside of the Institute knows where you are. Including Simon. If someone from the Circle finds out how close you are, they'll use him to get to you."

Clary knew that and understood the mentality and practice behind it, but who did he have now aside from his parents? His parent. "Are you guys keeping tabs on him? Making sure that they haven't gotten to him?"

Every night, Clary saw him snatched away like her mother, and at times strung up. She couldn't explain it and nor did she want to, but the nightmares filled her with foreboding and a fierce longing.

"We have people everywhere Valentine and his men might show up."

That included Simon Lewis and his family. Not only for their safety but because the Clave still wasn't convinced Clary wasn't secretly hiding the Mortal Cup somewhere. Meaning they had decided to keep track of everyone, mundane or otherwise, she'd been in frequent contact with these past few weeks.

"He'll be fine," Isabelle assured her. " _If_ you help us keep him safe by following the Clave's commands."

She knew Clary didn't have a choice whether she followed the command or not. Clary couldn't go anywhere. They'd caged her with wards after her last few attempts at escaping and she could only imagine what would happen if she took this opportunity they were offering her – a privilege, really – and squandered it. And it could be so simple to do. At least in theory. Although both Lightwood siblings were formidable fighters.

She nodded and then glanced down at her chest. "Don't suppose we'll be able to go shopping once we get there?"

As much as she appreciated Isabelle extending her wardrobe to her, Clary missed her own clothes and the simple comforts of a pair of jeans and sneakers. She wasn't used to twenty-four-hour belly displays, skintight or eight-inch heels. She'd learned to walk in them over the last two weeks but doubted she'd be able to fight in them, let alone scale a step if things got hairy, besides, she missed the comforts of home.

"Or before. Not that I don't like your style or anything, I mean, I'm grateful—I just, I'd prefer my own stuff."

Isabelle sighed dramatically, though she never truly would understand the girl's preference of denim over leather.

"Doubt it," she mused, considering the possibilities. It wasn't as if she went shopping most of the time, either, but she had set up a few agreements with certain shops and they would send her clothing on a monthly basis. She'd simply return whatever items she didn't care for. She supposed, in time, she could help Clary make the same arrangements. "I might be able to send someone to your apartment, though. I'll talk to Alec."

Forgoing the homemade breakfast Isabelle had dreamed of earlier this morning, she grabbed an apple from one of the refrigerators and headed for the exit.

"Come on. Bring your sad muffin."

The fact that Isabelle had given her a semi-solution and hadn't outright said no to her request gave Clary a bit of hope. Maybe she could take more than just clothes?

She scooped up the sad muffin in question and finished it off as she followed the Lightwood girl out of the cafeteria. "Where are we going? A briefing?"

Isabelle held the door open for her and sauntered down the hallway with Clary in tow, making their way back towards command center and the training room she knew Alec to be currently occupying. "We're going to find my brother and discuss your clothing issue. He'll probably be mid-training but that's okay." She looked back at Clary over her shoulder, smiling. "Never hurts to observe one of the best fighters our race has to offer."

Clary nodded a thank you, stomach doing a slight loop the loop at the mention of having to tell Alec about her clothing issue.

_If only we could have kept it between us girls._

She wasn't sure he'd be impressed with her request and it was no secret the guy didn't like her. Most of which Clary assumed had to do with Jace.

* * *

If Alec felt peckish before his visit to the Head Office, after leaving Izzy's room, he had no inclination, whatsoever, to eat, so he headed directly for the training. There was no one there, all room to himself was exactly what he needed.

He discarded his shirt and went for the punching bag, losing himself to the meditative state of working on the blows and moves. It took away the thoughts he wasn't fond of replaying.

The girls pushed into the training room and, like the cafeteria, found it abandoned, except for Alec who was taking his frustrations out on a punching bag. Isabelle put a finger to her lips to indicate silence from Clary and leaned back against the wall, watching him, the accuracy and strength of his blows and how the bag shook and swayed under the power of his fists.

Clary raised her hands in silent surrender, allowing her eyes to rove Alec's naked back, to appreciate his strength and the black ink they all adorned. She had seen the same kind of dedication on Isabelle the times that she'd watched her (not that it had been much, the Nephilim weren't all that privy to audiences and, unlike humans, they didn't cheer each other on in that way). Not generally.

Clary couldn't help but wonder though if there was ever a time in the future—near—when she'd have that kind of strength, precision, and grace.

She thought that she might, but it seemed out of reach, and despite what she knew, unbelievable at times. She still wasn't exactly sure she hadn't hit her head or wasn't in a coma somewhere. Maybe she'd been run over by a car after her interview with Brooklyn Art Academy and this was the world she'd cooked up for herself. A missing mother, loneliness and half-breed angels.

Isabelle waited a good ten minutes and until she saw sweat dripping down Alec's brow and shoulders before she cleared her throat and called attention to their presence. "Sorry to interrupt but I need a word."

Alec was so into the process and blissfully in that space where thoughts no longer formed coherent words to bother and stir his mind, that he didn't immediately register that the voice he heard in the background between his blows was directed at him and belonged to his sister.

The realization came a couple of seconds later and he caught the bag as it sprung back, stilling it, and turned to see Isabelle standing in the doorway with the Fairchild girl behind her. His muscles were buzzing with energy and a pleasant kind of light fatigue, and it didn't let the annoyance to immediately grip him as hard as it had before he had given it an outlet.

He picked his shirt up, wiping his forehead on it, and tossed it over his shoulder, approaching Izzy and folding his arms. "If it's about the trip, you might want to ask the Heads."

"It's not," Isabelle said, hands on her hips as he approached. "Clary needs a few of her things from home. Clothes and shoes that actually fit her, for one. Not everyone can run and fight in stilettos." She looked back over her shoulder at Clary with a smile. "Don't feel bad about that, by the way. I've had years of practice." Turning to face her brother again, she met his gaze. "Can we send someone to fetch her things? Or, better yet,–" She grinned, an idea forming, "–why don't you escort her? It'd be quicker."

And the two of them could use some time together to work out their kinks without Jace being present.

Even before she uttered her 'or better yet', he knew. He knew her so well he wanted to punch the wall next to her, but made an effort to keep it off his face. His hands, though, unwittingly balled into fists.

"How would I possibly make it quicker? I'm not a girls' clothing advisor. Why don't you ask Jace, and both of you can go there with her. I've… I'm busy here."

Clary remained at her post against the wall, watching sweat run down his back, biceps glistening like a polished stripper, the thought made her grin with misplaced amusement.

And then it was gone.

She'd expected his denial of what she wanted, of the trip, but he didn't say no, instead he shot down his sister's request gratefully and tried to shirk the responsibility.

Okay by Clary, she preferred Jace and Isabelle as neither snapped at her at a second's rate – not anymore. She could live with either and she wasn't sure she and Alec would survive a mundane mission like that. Not that she couldn't be nice, she was, but his cynical and bitey attitude made it a challenge.

What she had to take from this, though, was that he hadn't said no and that Isabelle actually understood her concerns, even if it was a fraction of an excuse.

"I'm not expecting anyone to advise," Clary added, just so it was clear to both. "I can smash and grab like the best of them."

Isabelle threw another glance at Clary and gestured she excuse them for a moment, taking Alec by the bicep and leading him far enough away that they could whisper without her overhearing.

Clary smiled her understanding to Isabelle and moved toward her space at the wall so they could speak privately. She didn't even mind. The fact that they were debating who was getting to take her home and not IF she got to go was a relief.

"Look," Isabelle began, grimacing subtly at her now sweaty hand, which she hurriedly wiped on the thigh of his trousers. "If there's one thing we agree on, it's that Jace gets distracted when he's around her. That won't happen with you. You'll take her to the apartment, give her ten minutes to collect her things, and bring her right back here again.

"Look at it as a trial run. You're worried about her coming on our mission. And if this little task increases your concerns, at least you'll have something valid to bring to Dad if you decide to contest his decision."

Which was a rare thing for Alec to do, but in this case, Isabelle didn't doubt he would.

Throwing excuses about Jace and his newfound weakness didn't make him feel any better about having to go anywhere alone with the girl who rarely failed to disrespect their regulations. Alec heaved a sigh, rolling his eyes.

"Why don't you want to go with her? Why is it always me who has to save Jace's precious focus with my own? He's equally your brother as he is mine. And you and the redhead are both girls. I just don't see how it's better if I go and you don't."

"Because I'm not the one who has a problem with her," she whispered, prodding his chest with a finger. "You do. For your own sake and the sake of our mission, you should at least try to sort out this resentment you feel towards her."

Advice he'd given her on several occasions in the past whenever her temper had flared. Most often in relation to their parents and the strict expectations they had of them. Expectations Isabelle always struggled to live up to.

Alec made an indignant huff. "I don't have any problems with her or anyone. There's no resentment, I merely don't want to be a babysitter. It's not what I've been training to do, is all. You like her so well, so go ahead and help her pack a bag."

Annoyed now, her eyes narrowed to slits and the urge to kick him in the shin as she often had when they were small children resurfaced. "You've been trained to protect those who cannot protect themselves. We all have. You're suddenly too good for that now? Too high and mighty?" Isabelle looked him over. "Fine. Have it your way."

She turned and headed back for Clary with a smile that didn't feel all too genuine right now.

"Looks like you're stuck with me. I'll grab my sword and we can go."

Alec scowled at the outrage – he didn't expect her anger to flare at what he perceived as a simple discussion. "Oh, so now you're suddenly okay to go? How hard was it to decide it from the start – that it's best all three go. You two aren't the best option to be left on your own, either." He strolled past them. "I've to shower first."

Isabelle was always okay to go but clearly, he had missed her point completely. Either that or he just didn't want to see it. She simply gave a nod of acknowledgment to his announcement he was hitting the showers first, then turned to face Clary. "Sorry about that."

Neither looked happy once they broke apart from their private conversation – Clary was. She was going home! She might not be staying and knew for a fact that there was nothing waiting there for her, but the idea of a brief familiarity was a comfort, nonetheless.

"Not your fault," she stated genuinely. "I rub him the wrong way. Don't suppose you know of a way I could change that?"

If she could figure out what she'd done and what his exact problem with her was, the easier their working relationship would be.

"My brother is a stickler for the rules. He likes order and logic sense. He doesn't trust strangers easily. To you, I'm sure he can seem cold and unwelcoming, but in truth, his ability to not let emotions get the best of him makes him a superior warrior. And it's how we were raised. How all Shadowhunter children are raised," Isabelle admitted, opening the door and leading the way back towards the command center. She suspected there were other reasons Alec didn't particularly care for Clary's company. Jace's response to her, how it affected him, being one of them. But Isabelle didn't want to voice this aloud. "So, my advice to you when you're out there together is to follow his lead. Don't stray. Do what he tells you. If he tells you to hide, hide. If he tells you to run, run. If he tells you to do a cartwheel, cartwheel your little butt off. Because the fact is he will defend you with his life. And all he asks in return is that you make it easier on him by not putting yourself or anyone else in danger."

* * *

The idea of Izzy coming with them had actually lifted a bit of weight off Alec's shoulders but didn't erase the whole of the pent-up frustration, just like erasers can't get all of the pencil off the paper when it's been pressed too hard while writing.

He let out a long exhale as if to breathe out that unpleasant energy he was tired of already, and tossed his shirt into the laundry basket as he headed for the shower. Chill water brought him a bit of a distraction and cleansed his head.

When he walked out with a towel around his hips to get his pants and a shirt, Jace got up from the chair, surprising him. Alec didn't lock the door, but he didn't expect to see him, either. He thought Jace was out somewhere with a few other hunters.

"Something wrong?" Alec asked.

Jace smiled briefly, shaking his head. "No. I just… I heard about that Vegas mission. Wanted to wish you luck before you went and… well, it's a shame I'm not joining you. You know when you're coming back yet?"

"No. I assume we come back when we're ordered to, as usual."

Alec studied him, his demeanor pulled the wrong strings in Lightwood. Like something was off. Jace had never been anything but crystal clear or honest with Alec, even when it was about his many extracurricular affairs he sometimes seemed to compete at with his sister. But now, Alec heard something out of tune in his voice.

Jace took it in with a pensive nod of acknowledgment, then glanced at him in an uncertain way Alec wasn't accustomed to seeing on him, either. "Did they tell you why I'm staying behind?"

"Because you're needed here to keep an eye out for Valentine and any activity that would alert us to his location. Why, you think something else is the reason?"

He shrugged, pacing languidly to the bookshelf. "Because of Clary, isn't it?" He turned to pierce Alec with a probing look.

"It is," he answered honestly.

Jace wasn't happy with the answer but was aware of it before Alec confirmed. "I merely tried to show compassion to a girl who had her world turn upside down in one day. It's what we are, isn't it? The beings of compassion and light and love, all about sympathy, aren't we?"

Alec sighed, feeling for his confusion, although knowing it was only partial. Deep down, Jace realized he might be feeling more than he advertised.

"You've been investing more interest than that into her, Jace, and it began to influence your focus. But it's just my assessment. The Heads haven't told me that, nor asked me to share that insight, so I haven't. They told me what I said before: you're staying to keep up the search here."

Jace pressed his lips into a thin line, looking down at his boots, his arms folded, then nodded. "Uh-huh. Fine. Just… keep each other safe out there. Good luck."

He made himself smile; Alec returned it with a nod, and he waved and left.

Alec drew a deep breath, held it, then let it out, rubbing his neck absentmindedly. It didn't feel good, nor right. That girl had brought something alien into their tandem, and he didn't feel at home with this. He didn't want to get used to this new and confusing energy Jace carried with him now. All Alec could hope for was that Jace got over it while they were away. It was for the best that he stayed behind. He needed his head cleared.

Alec pulled the towel off and got dressed, then went to the armory to get the bow and quiver.


	2. Chapter 2

**SIN CITY — PART 2**

"My brother is a stickler for the rules. He likes order and logic sense. He doesn't trust strangers easily. To you, I'm sure he can seem cold and unwelcoming, but in truth, his ability to not let emotions get the best of him makes him a superior warrior. And it's how we were raised. How all Shadowhunter children are raised," Isabelle admitted, opening the door and leading the way back towards the command center. She suspected there were other reasons Alec didn't particularly care for Clary's company. Jace's response to her, how it affected him, being one of them. But Isabelle didn't want to voice this aloud. "So, my advice to you when you're out there together is to follow his lead. Don't stray. Do what he tells you. If he tells you to hide, hide. If he tells you to run, run. If he tells you to do a cartwheel, cartwheel your little butt off. Because the fact is he will defend you with his life. And all he asks in return is that you make it easier on him by not putting yourself or anyone else in danger."

"I can do that," Clary supplied.

How hard could it be? Assuming that they were still talking about their clothing mission and not Vegas. Who knew how Clary'd react when another creature came barreling at her face? At least she'd been at home then and had some stuff at her disposal. Out in the open, with another can of Lysol… Who knew.

"You are still coming with us?"

Fray said that now, but Isabelle wondered if she would actually manage to see it through. Despite their sheep-mentality, it wasn't in mundanes' nature to follow orders without asking questions or understanding why, and because she'd been raised as one Isabelle assumed there would only be so long until that caused a new conflict.

Isabelle opened her mouth to answer when she heard someone call her name.

"Isabelle?"

She turned to see Natalie, one of the Institute's forensics, approach.

"I've just finished writing the reports on the Dahak case and I could use a second opinion before I send them off to The Clave. Do you have time? Daniel is out on an assignment."

Isabelle nodded and flashed her a smile, "I'll be right there."

Natalie turned on her heel and disappeared back towards the lab, where Isabelle herself spent a lot of time when not out on missions.

"Guess it's just you and Alec," Isabelle told Clary, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder because she could sense Fray wasn't too thrilled with the idea. "You'll be fine. Wait here. He should be back any minute."

Isabelle gave her an encouraging smile in parting and followed Natalie to the lab, secretly pleased with how things had turned out. Alec could deny it all he wanted, but it was clear to anyone who knew him he had a problem with the girl and it wouldn't resolve itself with him hiding from her.

Clary tried to smile back but was failing immensely. She wasn't the one with an issue on this and knew it wasn't that bad, but Clary doubted Alec would see it the same way.

* * *

When Alec returned to the control room and saw the redhead stand there alone, his heart sank in a foreboding.

_Izzy, dammit! Why_ _do all girls have to be sly like that?_

He approached the troublemaker, bracing his indignation that was beginning to steam. "Where is she?"

Alec's expression didn't inspire Clary. He looked as if someone had kicked his puppy or bow repeatedly. "She got called to look at another case."

Alec studied her for a long moment, trying to decipher whether Izzy told her to say that or it was true. She didn't seem to be lying.

Nevertheless, he wasn't surprised. The irony was that it'd be the same outcome in any case.

"Let's go."

He accepted that fairly easily. Clary was thankful for that.

He patted his jacket for the keys, located them, and headed for the garage. He rolled one of the bikes out, not bothering with helmets, and straddled it on the curb outside the Institute fence.

She trailed him out of the Institute, wondering when the wards they'd placed to keep her inside would kick in and if there was something special he'd have to do to deactivate them.

Only it didn't seem necessary.

Maybe they'd already done it?

"Not a safety first kind of guy?" she asked, waiting until he was seated on the bike before moving to slid onto the back, being careful about her hand placement since it was awkward. "Can you even die by means of an accident?"

Could she?

"We're mortal, just like mundanes. But it's harder to kill us due to our powers. You, however, should be worried if you can't hold on tight. You're free to go back and take a helmet if you're scared."

He stuck the key into the ignition.

"I'm not scared." A lie. She was, but for an entirely different reason.

What was waiting for her back at home?

She slid her arms around his waist and hugged him from behind, an action that made her smile awkwardly and unwittingly appreciate the freshly showered scent clinging to him.

Alec winced, battling annoyance as she clung to him tighter contradicting her statement that she wasn't afraid.

He turned the key and pulled from the curb, speeding up as they went, maneuvering among the cars.

Clary had been on the back of a motorbike one other time in her life and somehow it felt as if there were more risk to it this time. And there was. What if something flew out and knocked them off the thing and neither of them was wearing helmets? Did he even worry about that?

She tightened her arms even further at the instinctive rush as he sped up, eyes sweeping closed so she could save herself from looking and seeing what was coming, instinctively weaving with him.

Her arms tightened like vice, and he could almost sense she was trembling and her heart was thrashing against his back. She'd sink her claws into him like a spooked cat if she could, and the image was simultaneously amusing and irking.

She could've taken the helmet when he suggested. But girls were big on proving they were tough same as many boys were. Among mundanes, that was. And by every sign, she still was one. Like a kid raised by wolves and trying to live among people.

He kept a sharp eye around for any possible demonic spies, but noticed none thus far. His invisibility rune was working fine for both of them, but he would activate her own when they got to her apartment. It would make it safer.

It took them a record-worthy fifteen minutes to get to the building in question. He slowed down and stopped a dozen yards short of the door, killed the engine and pocketed the key.

"Get off and stick close."

By the time he slowed and stopped, she'd opened her eyes long enough to notice that they were on a familiar street and really close to home.

She removed her arms from his waist, eased off the back of the bike and took a minute to get her sea legs. The ride had been nice and if her eyes had been open and her heart racing less as if it were trying to kill her and more regularly, it'd be enjoyable.

Pity about her hair, she hadn't taken that into consideration or the fact that it would whip all over the place, particularly her nostrils.

She scratched her nose and chuckled softly at her stupidity, waiting on his next command, eyeing the streets and faces in search of someone familiar. Simon.

The way she was searching the street was obvious enough. Alec got off the bike and produced his stele.

"Give me your arm. And whoever you may see here, remember that they don't see you, nor are they supposed to. If you want to live, that is."

She blinked guiltily and extended her requested arm.

She'd promised Isabelle earlier that she wouldn't do anything stupid and even agreed that the Lightwood girl was right about Simon and his safety, and yet her eyes and heart had automatically searched for him.

"By they, I assume, you mean mundanes? How come you guys don't have a handy rune thing to cloak yourselves from demons?"

"Mundanes are deaf and blind by nature, all their senses are muffled, and even animals see and hear more."

He took her offered arm, pushed her sleeve up and drew a rune of invisibility on the inner side of her forearm. It flared as if burning into the skin and darkened. Clary glanced down at the rune he drew, watching the skin fizzle and burn as if he were branding it, surprised that there wasn't more pain in its scribe. He let go of her and hid the stele, starting for the door. She didn't feel any different once it glowed and then settled as if a door had been unlocked.

Clary had been trying to accustom herself to the tattoo on her neck for days and now she had another that was equal in color. She'd never considered tattoos before, and as much as she enjoyed art and all its edges, putting something on yourself was a big choice – only she didn't appear to have any here.

What happened once they ran out of space to use? Would other melt together? There was so much she wanted to know, so much she wanted to ask she knew couldn't be found in the few books they'd let her read. She didn't think Alec would appreciate the trivia questions, though, so she didn't ask, merely grateful that he'd gotten her here safely and that he was helping her at all.

"Demons, like other supernaturals, have their sensors open for energy and not for matter like humans," Alec said. "It's close to impossible to hide from them. Our job is not hiding - we're preserving the balance. We're not criminals or cowards to hide."

Unfolding his bow, he proceeded for the door, then slipped inside and held it letting her in. The neighbor-witch's door was closed and didn't feel particularly dangerous, so he led the way upstairs.

She followed him up the stairs, into the apartment complex, sticking behind him for the most part despite her urge to run ahead and do the whole 'honey, I'm home' thing.

Once they hit her apartment—the first thing Clary noticed was that the front door had been repaired—and that was it. Everything else was still the same. The burnt up stove, the destroyed couch, the pictures and paintings scattered everywhere from her fight with that demon and her mother's struggles. After Alec cleared the ground floor and gave her the all clear, she picked up her family pictures, swiping the glass from the frames, and setting some back on the shelf they'd been knocked from. She could feel tears begin to gather behind her eyes.

_Stupid._

She heaved a sigh, shaking off the melancholy, all too aware that it wasn't helpful to any of them. Not her, not her mother, and certainly not Alec. She needed to be stronger than she was.

"Bedroom?" she offered, already making her way for the narrow hallway, deciding to take the lead this time.

Once Alec made sure the living room and the kitchen were clear, he checked the rest pretty quickly - their apartment was rather small.

There was chaos and ruins, like some abandoned place where memories of the scuffle lingered like an ancient ghost.

He didn't respond, merely followed her to the bedroom. The paintings and drawings of the Angelic Power rune were stapled all over the walls. It was what Magnus told them about: her memory was surfacing and signaling her mother about it.

"We can't stay long," he reminded. "You have ten minutes. Make it count."

She gave a nod and curled a hand into a fist, refraining from plucking the sheets of various paper with runes on it from the wall. She'd forgotten about this particular mess.

Clary threw open the cupboard, scrambling around inside until she found a bag, one of the few she actually had. They hadn't travelled much and she rarely slept over anywhere but at Simon's place and she had a spare set of clothing there.

The same as what he had here.

She dumped the collection of pencils, paints and old sketchbooks to the bottom of the cupboard, pouring the rest of the shaving and muck onto the top of it. It wasn't very big.

An old glitter pink backpack she'd gotten in the first grade and later doodled on.

She stuffed a couple pairs of underwear into the bottom, deciding that she could rotate through them as needed by handwashing, and then helped herself to two pairs of jeans, a short selection of tank tops, t-shirts with stripes, one sweater and a jacket. She didn't bother with make-up or jewelry. The shoes would have to go in an extra carry bag.

She set it all down on her bed and dashed for the kitchen, returning a second later to collect her shoes. One pair of boots and a set of sneakers for training.

After throwing in some perfume, grabbing her favorite shampoo, hairbrush, hair elastics and her art supplies in its actual tackle box, Clary was ready to go. She was taking liberties with the pleasure items. She tied the shoes to the top half of the glitter bag so that she'd have one hand free, adjusted the straps to their longest and eased it onto her back before grabbing the box by its handle. "I think that's it."

She shut the cupboard doors and removed the runes stuck to it, tossing them toward the trash in a feeble attempt to clean it up.

"Will I ever be able to come back here?" She knew he was the wrong person to ask such a sentimental question but suddenly she needed to know.

Alec tried to not look what she was stuffing into the bag to not get annoyed again, but it was hard to miss as she dashed around collecting shards of her former life.

Her question made him cringe inside. "I'm not the judge of that. But I wouldn't count on it happening anytime soon. Are you done?"

"Yeah," she supplied, sort of relieved he hadn't plied her with some kind of hopeful lie about how everything was going to be okay and go back to normal.

_It never would._

She opened the cupboard again, slipped the box of supplies back into their hole, deciding that it was stupid to want to take them when there wasn't space.

She'd figure it out later.

Clary shut the door and strode out of the bedroom without looking back, heading for the shelf in the living room, helping herself to one of the pictures from the broken frames, tucking it into her pocket before slowly heading for the door allowing him to take the lead again.

Alec watched her leave the box behind with a face of someone who'd made her mind about something, and followed her back to the trashed parlor where she picked a picture from a shelf. "You sure it's all you're taking? Because this is the chance. The one chance."

_No, I'm not the least bit sure._ "I'm good." Saying that, she felt anything but. "Ten minutes and counting, right?"

He regarded her, searching himself for all the things Jace threw at him earlier. Compassion, sympathy... They were there, in the background, pushed aside by how little sense he saw in clinging to the life that was fake to begin with.

It wasn't so for her, and Alec understood it. But it was hard to make space for someone's weakness when he had been taught to destroy all the traces of his own.

He sighed. "You can have three more minutes if they can save you. Just... take what you really can't breathe without."

She'd expected him to support her want to leave, to practically push her out the door, and when he didn't, Clary had to look at him twice, grateful and studying as if for the first time.

"Thank you." She didn't know what else to say and her body seemed to comply immediately. She dashed back down the hall to her room, cursing her weakness when she'd been so determined before.

She freed up an old over the shoulder bag she'd meant to use once she started at the Brooklyn Academy of Arts, a staple that she'd remembered she'd set down on her dresser but had disappeared amongst the glossary of stenciled runes. She loaded it with pencils, an old sketchpad that had a few of her newer artworks, and then made her way to her mother's room.

Clary hadn't needed to go in there before but it looked as if it had been turned over. All her stuff was on the floor, her bed unmade, her shoes practically thrown around the place while her scarf hung from the ceiling fan like feeble Christmas decorations. She freed it off the blades, slipped it around her neck, briefly allowing the fabric that contained her mother's comforting scent to encase her.

If she really let her imagination go, Clary could even pretend her mom was holding her.

_No time for that._

She rifled through Jocelyn's jewelry box, observing that a few special pieces had been taken and that whoever had come here, whoever had taken her, had helped themselves to her stuff, too.

Clary checked her mom's room over, unsure of what she could take that would help once she found Jocelyn, and then slowly started back to the living room where Alec had been patiently waiting.

Alec didn't follow her back into the rooms; he figured he could do without getting antsier as she was collecting all the things she would hardly need for anything other than driving herself into the murky depths of melancholy and depression. He strolled around the parlor, careful not to step onto the broken things littering the floors. He checked the kitchen once again, scanning the black marks on the walls and deformed fridge gaping with its racks askew.

And then, he felt something else, just like a foreboding back at the Institute when Izzy wasn't waiting anymore, but this time, it was something worse than just his sister's whim.

With gooseflesh rising along his spine like a comber of ice, Alec got to the window and glimpsed two hunters striding from where his bike was parked. Valentine's men. Had to be.

As they approached, a couple of black Rottweilers ran ahead and into the small garden in front of the building's door.

Alec dashed to the white apartment's door, producing his stele to draw a locking rune. It was a temporary solution, but he needed just a bit of time, and it was going to buy him that.

The rune glared red and blue and sealed the door for the time being.

And then, Clary came out, looking happier. She offered him a small smile and walked to the door, gesturing to it, signaling that she was ready to go. "After you."

He pulled her away from the knob by the arm before she reached for it.

"No, too late for the normal leave." Alec shoved a knife into her hand and searched for a proper wall around the parlor, then went for it, pushing the couch aside. "Cut your palm quick."

The smile evaporated from her face when he pulled her from the door and instructed that she cut herself, gratefulness quickly superseded by panic.

He closed his eyes momentarily, forcing his energy to calm, then began to draw the rune. His pulse accelerated as the magic drew its fill to make the rune work.

Behind the door, the dogs were barking, their claws scratching against the wood, their bodies bumping into it to blast through the block.

Clary swallowed hard as the door rattled on its hinges, the sound of ferocious barking almost crippling, bringing forth an image of the one she'd had to face herself. Her hand was shaking as she pressed the blade to her palm and closed her eyes, forcing herself to focus, to not waste time or think about it as she usually would. Clary winced as it cut through the flesh, pinching, blood pooling, every bit of what she had on her back and shoulder resting against her thigh feeling like an anchor as she moved toward him.

_We were stupid to have come here; I was stupid!_

Clary kept a hold of the knife but extended the wounded hand toward him when he finished drawing his rune. "Like this?"

When Alec finished the rune, his heart was thrashing in the base of his throat and hot and cold flashes combed through him like he had a very human flu.

He shoved the stele back into his pocket and turned to her, taking her offered hand and turning it so the pooled blood dripped onto his palm he held under it.

He let go, put her bloody palm over the rune and closed his eyes, focusing the energy to open the portal. He felt a pull deep inside his solar plexus, gentle at first and growing in its strength as if there was a black hole opening to drain him. It went on for a moment that felt too long, and then his palm flashed in heat as if fire burst through it, and the wall wobbled as if it were a hologram. Shaking a bit as if he had spent the last three hours sprinting, he stepped away and pulled the girl to him by the shoulder.

Clary frowned as he held her bleeding hand over his, capturing the blood, adding it to the graffiti he'd hastily slapped on the wall. It didn't take long before it began to warble, her stomach dropping into her feet. She knew what this was without him having to tell her as she'd travelled within something quite similar only once before.

"Focus on the Institute," Alec instructed, shooting a glance at the door where the rune was fading. Another two blows would do it in.

She cast a quick glance at him, observed that he looked more pale and worn-out. She'd assumed that he'd be going with her and that this was their quick exit but before she knew it, he'd demanded she focus on the Institute and left her with a familiar tugging as the world shifted and changed.

He pushed Clary into the wobbling wall, and as soon as she went in, the wall became its own dense self. The knife went with Clary, so he grabbed his bow and aimed at the door with one of the explosive arrows. He shot it into the middle of the failing rune, then dove out through the window; it shattered around him as he went down.

A moment later, the arrow exploded in the apartment upstairs.

* * *

A second's disorientation as Clary appeared on the other side – in the green house. One of the many places in the Institute she found to be beautiful and took comfort in.

She threw off her bags and knife, leaving them in front of the stone bench in the middle of the garden, and hurried for the exit, charging toward the control room where they'd left Isabelle.

* * *

Looking over the reports didn't take long, nor did Isabelle find any faults within them. Natalie was a skilled forensic scientist and it was highly rare she ever made mistakes. And yet, it had become somewhat of a protocol that they always had someone check their work before they sent it to the Clave. Just in case. They wanted to make a good impression and for the high standards of the New York Institute to remain just that – high.

Once finished, Isabelle made her way back to the control center, arranging for detailed maps of Las Vegas to be downloaded to both her and Alec's phones for their journey. The kind of maps that also showed Downworlder establishments usually hidden from the mundanes.

It was then that Clary came running in, looking haggard and a little out of breath, panic evident on her face. Isabelle immediately pushed away from the machine she'd been using. "What happened? Where's Alec?"

Clary's gaze immediately locked on Isabelle's as she charged into the room, ignoring the many other eyes that were on her, following her as the girls met in the middle. "Demons came to the apartment and Alec sent me here!"

Clary was talking louder than was necessary, gaze darting around the command room frantically, expecting him to appear in the same fashion she did. She'd seen his face, though, the wornness, and knew he'd overexerted himself by making sure she got away safely.

"There were a lot of them! Two of those demon dogs for sure!"

Isabelle took Clary by the elbow and steered her away from the most crowded part of the room, concern for her brother's safety immediately spiking but not allowed to take over for her rational thinking. "Sent you here? Sent you how?"

Clary felt her racing heart slow slightly as Isabelle took a hold of her arm, comforted by her presence and the fact that she'd now be able to take care of this. "He sent me through a rune… a portal." She raised her injured hand, still bleeding, only just having remembered it and the pain.

Isabelle took her injured hand in hers, giving it a cursory glance as she pulled her stele from its holster and activated the healing rune on Clary's neck, allowing the cut on her palm to close as Isabelle looked her over for other potential wounds. She seemed okay. Frightened, but okay.

Clary didn't watch the wound heal as much as she felt it, the hand curling into itself, brushing against her pants that probably had a blood stain on them somewhere.

"At your apartment?" Isabelle asked. "He opened the portal at your apartment?"

It was a risky move and one they only used in true emergencies, the process was too draining. Isabelle returned to the desk she'd been occupying just before Clary arrived and picked up her phone, hitting up Alec on speed-dial, hoping he had made it out.

Clary nodded to confirm and shadowed Isabelle to the desk, nibbling on a nail nervously while she waited on something from the Lightwood girl, some sign of what they were going to do.

* * *

The landing was harsher than it had to be – Alec was too drained to use his powers properly. The collision with the ground knocked the air out of him as he rolled over his head to soften the blow, and his vision darkened for a few dangerous seconds when he heard nothing else but his heart thudding in his temples like a stampede of wild horses.

Before it cleared out, something bumped into him with a growl, and they rolled into the asphalt, breaking the fencing around the small makeshift garden around the building. The world came into focus on a set of spittle-dripping canine teeth snapping in front of his face. Alec was clutching at the dog's thick neck, pushing into it with all the little strength he had left. It was terribly strong for the limited amount of stamina Alec had to offer. The explosion must have knocked the two Circle hunters out, but one of them was getting down the stairs. Alec could hear his groans and curses, thundering steps. There was another voice, too. Both were alive. If the second dog would come out to jump him, he was done.

His arms were shaking, the dog was unrelenting in its efforts. Its head began to shift; the tentacles with venomous spikes would come out, and then Alec could also kiss his life goodbye. He couldn't push it away as it was, but there was a chance he could use.

Of course, sacrifices still had to be made.

Alec gnashed his teeth and loosened his hold. The dog's jaws snapped onto his shoulder; the pain shot through his arm and into his neck like a blast of gunpowder set alight. That, and the momentary reset he offered to his muscles allowed him to throw the beast off as he pulled his legs up and helped himself with a kick of his feet.

Ignoring the pain and blinking daylight threatening to go off, he rolled onto his fours and pushed off the ground, running for the bike. The dark hunter was already out the door and running to him, the damned dog in tow, tentacles swaying.

On physical automatic memory, Alec stuck the key into the lock, turned and sped up past them, making a U-turn, then ran the bike over the dog and toward the street. One of its tentacles nipped him in the arm, cutting through the jacket, but Alec didn't care for as long as he could get away.

The holographic screen came on, setting the route for the Institute and asking if he needed it to drive. With his body on fire and head swimming, he did. He swiped over the accept option and held on tighter, setting his jaw to grasp at consciousness.

_Just a few miles, and then the rune would take care of all this mess._

The phone was buzzing in his pocket, but he didn't feel it through the combers of chill.

* * *

He didn't answer. Which could mean a myriad of things, yet none of the comforting reasons popped into Isabelle's mind. Only the less pleasant ones.

She ended the call and turned to Clary again. "He used one of the bikes?"

She assumed so since cars weren't exactly helpful in New York City with its crowded streets and stalled traffic. The bikes allowed them to dart in and out between the queues, allowed to make quick getaways. On Clary's confirmation, Isabelle looked over her shoulder at Raj, another fellow Shadowhunter currently working on one of the other machines.

"Track Alec's bike for me. He might be in trouble."

Raj didn't hesitate to comply, bringing up the holographic maps of the city and narrowing in on the blinking red dot that marked Alec's location. "Looks like he's headed back for The Institute," he said after a few moments.

Clary stood close by but out of the way Shadowhunters, eyeing the red dot as it blinked along the holographic map. She prayed that he was okay, guilty for wasting so much time and for even requesting the change in clothes now that they'd been attacked. She knew it was a possibility that it could have happened, but she hadn't really imagined that it would. Clary guessed, despite her mother's appearance, she'd been in the frame of mind that she was okay – that it was going to be okay – maybe she'd just been naively hopeful.

"Get a medic ready." An order meant for anyone who had the capacity to follow it, and as Isabelle headed for the exit she saw several people rush into action. "Stay here," she told Clary, hurrying out of the room and for the elevators, intending to meet her brother outside in case he needed help.

Clary scrubbed a hand through her hair, wincing when it stuck in a knot, discomfort created by the helmetless ride. Clary freed up her hand, feeling stupid and useless, and gave another nod when Isabelle demanded she stay. She didn't want to get in the way or hinder anything.

* * *

The computer was following a longer route, avoiding the thickest traffic jams that Alec wouldn't have looped around if he were driving. He was nodding in and out, which was alarming, but he felt bad enough without additional reasons to worry. It took efforts to focus on staying awake – at least partially awake for long enough to not fall off.

When the Institute garage's gate finally slid open letting him in, it all looked like a blurry dream. The voices around him echoed as if put through some annoying sound filter.

The motion stopped, and Alec slumped forward, letting his eyes close.

For just a moment, he thought to himself weakly. Just a moment…

It didn't take long before the garage doors opened to allow Alec entrance, but those few minutes Isabelle had to wait felt like an eternity. The bike was clearly in auto-drive and her brother immediately slumped forward once it came to a halt. A few of the guards stationed in the underground garage helped pull him off the bike and like with Clary before, Isabelle activated his healing rune, unaware of the full extent of his injuries but seeing enough blood to know he'd need it.

They helped her get him into the elevator and upstairs where the medic was waiting with a gurney. It was protocol. Most of their physical injuries could be healed with runes, but not all and it was standard procedure to take a wounded soldier to the infirmary.

The vortex of thudding pain calmed a little when Alec felt the familiar rune's energy like a balm on his wounds. It made it easier to breathe, and his head cleared a little – enough to let the awareness back in.

He was in the elevator, probably going to the infirmary, and the shoulder still stung. He was tired, too tired to fight the urge to relax and let his eyes close. Izzy was nearby, he could feel her presence, and then hear her voice. It had to be her who activated the healing rune and organized the command center. He felt a stroke of pride and gratitude through the fatigue.

All things aside, it wasn't the best timing to pull off a portal rune and get bit by a demon dog.

Clary gasped softly when after what felt like an eternity, the troop of Shadowhunters appeared with Alec on a stretcher. There were tears in her eyes as Clary watched him rolled to the infirmary. She'd been damned weak. And for what? A sweater and some art supplies?

Isabelle followed in their wake, grabbing Clary's hand and pulling her with to the infirmary. It wouldn't be long until word of this reached their parents and Isabelle dreaded that moment, expecting whatever had happened would be blamed on her for not accompanying the two as backup. And maybe she deserved that. But she tried not to think about it. It wasn't important right now. The only thing that mattered was Alec.

"Is he seriously hurt?" Clary asked as Isabelle guided her after the trail of staff, considerate enough to perhaps read her distress or in need of a friend. "Is he going to be okay?"

"He's going to be fine," Isabelle said, sounding more confident than she felt, listening to the medic list off her brother's damages, what the rune was taking care of and what else needed extra tending to. The positives were that whatever poison may have entered Alec's system through the demon dog bite was easy enough to heal. And demon pox could only be contracted through sexual contact with a demon – in this case highly unlikely.

Isabelle pulled Clary aside when they began to strip Alec of his shirt, putting some distance between the bed and them, but remaining close enough that she could observe for herself what they were doing. A few new runes were being added to his torso. Isabelle recognized them as ones that would help him restore the energy lost while creating a portal for Clary.

"Are you okay?" Isabelle asked her after a few moments, looking her over again. "Did they hurt you?"

Clary had never known herself to be docile or a follower, and yet, as Isabelle pulled her aside, out of the way of the people working on Alec, it felt like the least that Clary could do.

She shook her head. She definitely wasn't okay but she wasn't hurt.

Clary glanced down at her healed palm, evidence solidified by a thinly dried strip of blood and the only trace of her part in this whole ordeal.

"I'm really sorry," Clary stated, looking up again, briefly meeting Isabelle's eyes before allowing them to focus on Alec.

Isabelle frowned, trying to read the expression on her face. "Sorry about what?"

Clary dragged her focus from her brother and fixed her eyes on Izzy's face, trying to gauge her own thoughts and her 'what'. "The demons, for getting Alec into trouble for a pair of jeans and some boots."

She should have just stuck with what she'd been given.

"Clary, this isn't your fault. If we had thought this would happen, we wouldn't have gone." At the very least Isabelle wouldn't have let them go alone. She'd assumed Valentine's men didn't still hang about the Fairchillds' apartment, considering none had appeared on their surveillance the past few weeks. Why they'd shown up today, how they'd known, was unclear. It could have been pure coincidence. Or they could have designed some sort of alarm system to alert them to Clary's presence.

After tracking Alec's bike Isabelle had dispatched a group of soldiers to the apartment, just in case the Circle members were lingering or there were clues behind. With any luck, they might find something useful in their hunt for Valentine.

The throbbing pain in his arm and shoulder was gradually easing its grip, and the more relaxed Alec got, the sleepier he felt. It was a torture in itself to stay awake.

Clair, one of the medics on the current shift, called his name, pulling him from another bout of semi-slumber. "I've applied the runes, and now you should rest for a couple of hours. Preferably here until the venom is out."

She smiled and went toward his sister. Medics took no objections to their recommendations, as a rule.

He didn't care. He just wanted to pass out.

* * *

"What's to keep the same thing from happening in Vegas?" Clary brought a hand to her mouth again, worrying the index nail. "They're looking for me, right?"

"They're looking for the Cup. And for some reason, they think you either have it or know where it is because apparently, your mother does." Isabelle gently pulled Clary's hand from her mouth. Her nails didn't need any more bite marks. "The advantage of Vegas is that no one will think to look for you there. You have no affiliation to that town, right?"

Clary shook her head a no. Isabelle shifted her focus to Clair when the Medic pushed away from Alec's bed. Clair smiled reassuringly. "He'll be fine after a few hours of rest. He's had worse. You both have. What was he doing out there on his own, though?"

"An excellent question," a cold voice sounded from behind Isabelle. She didn't have to turn around to know her mother had just entered the infirmary, but Isabelle did, anyway. Anything else would have been disrespectful.

Maryse Lightwood was clad in all black, as usual, in a tight but long dress that made her look as intimidating as Isabelle knew she could be. Her long hair was pulled back in a bun and her current facial expression screamed disappointment and anger.

Both the Lightwood parents were strict and forthright, yet somehow, her husband was the lesser evil of the two, easier to talk to at times and less judging. At least to Clary's face.

"Why was Alec alone with the Fairchild girl?" she inquired as Isabelle met her gaze.

"It wasn't a mission. Just a quick trip to get some of Clary's belongings. I didn't think–"

"That's right – you didn't think," Maryse snapped, her voice like a crack of her daughter's whip.

Clary glanced down at the floor as she directed her ire at Isabelle. Clary's mother had never been that abrasive with her — not to the point of open belittling – and Clary couldn't remember her ever having even raised a hand to her.

Isabelle pressed her lips together, heat briefly creeping up the back of her neck and cheeks.

"You never do, Isabelle. That's the problem. There are Circle members looking for this girl, not to mention all the Downworlders eager to get their hands on the Mortal Cup," she sighed, looking exasperated, almost close to losing her usually flawless composure. "Just go. You and I will talk about this later."

She strode past Isabelle with a parting glance at Clary, moving towards Alec's bed. Clair followed her, silent and seemingly uncomfortable with having overheard the scolding. Isabelle knew how she felt.

Izzy forced her temper and humiliation into check, held her head high, and left the infirmary.

Fray flushed guiltily, raising her gaze again, watching as the brunette swept past her and out of the door, leaving her mother to tend to her brother.

Two weeks had given Clary a lot of insight into the Shadowhunters, and this particular relationship wasn't a surprise to her or anyone else, for that matter, but the whole affair was unpleasant. Clary wondered if there was anything she could say that Isabelle herself hadn't already. Would the woman even listen to reason?

She hadn't addressed Clary and Clary didn't suppose she cared to since what had happened had nothing to do with the Cup or Valentine. Nothing that Clary could answer for, anyway.

Clary stood rooted to the spot for another minute and then slipped out, deciding to give the woman some privacy with her son, heading in search of Isabelle to see if she was okay.

* * *

Through the thickening veil of slumber, Alec unmistakably sensed his mother's presence before her voice somewhere far away asked a question to Clair. The shift Medic responded, and their conversation was a short droning sound that wasn't strong enough to fully pull him back to awareness. He tried, nonetheless.

"It's not Isabelle's mistake, mother," he murmured, struggling to open his eyes but to no avail. He literally felt fading away and could no longer fight it, nor the runes that insisted on forcing him to recuperate.

"We shall discuss it later," she said in a distant voice. "Sleep."

He gladly obeyed.

* * *

Isabelle wanted to head straight for her room, to briefly sulk and later clean herself of the resentment she currently felt towards her mother. But it would have to wait. She still hadn't finished with the maps from earlier and that was important. Plus, she didn't want to give anyone another reason to think she was irresponsible or incapable of doing her job.

Returning to the machine she'd occupied earlier, Isabelle connected to Alec's phone as well as her own, downloading the special maps of Las Vegas and the database for demons and Downworlders known to roam that area. A handy tool to have on hand should they run into any of them.

"Isabelle." It was Raj who had spoken this time. "The team we sent to Jocelyn Fairchild's apartment didn't find anything of note. The Circle members must have already left. No trace of any demons left behind either."

That was disappointing. She nodded. "Continue to keep the surveillance on for that entire street. If they return, we want to know."

"Already taken care of," he replied, returning to his own station.

* * *

Isabelle wasn't in the hallway and her bedroom door was closed. Clary wasn't sure if she was in there, but also wasn't sure if Isabelle'd want her to interrupt. They weren't that close.

Clary heaved a small sigh, gave up her search and headed back to the greenhouse to retrieve her dumped bags. They were exactly as she'd thrown them. She picked them up, and the knife, eyeing her blood that had dried on the blade.

Unlike how alien it had felt the first time he thrust it into her hand, this time it felt denser, as if she had more control of it. She brought it to her palm, touched the blade to the dried blood on her palm now smudged and wondered if she'd be able to cut herself again.

She hadn't thought she could do it before, by no means a fan of pain, and yet – she had.

She blinked away the thought, twirled the blade in her grasp as she'd seen some of the training Shadowhunters do, and cursed when it slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor.

_Damn._

Tricks like that always looked easier than they were.

She picked it up again, pulled on her bags and made herself walk to her assigned room.

* * *

With her task completed and no new ones currently on her agenda, Isabelle finally made her way back to her room where she unbuckled the holster from her thigh and left it and her weapons on her nightstand.

Ever since they were small children, Alec, Jace, and Isabelle had been taught to relinquish emotions that didn't do them any good, emotions such as anger, hatred, and jealousy. It was meant to keep them pure, as pure as their vessels could be, to allow more room for their connection with their angelic powers to grow.

Alec had always excelled at this. But Isabelle struggled. She was a good Shadowhunter – one of the best of her generation, and she knew it. But there were flaws. Flaws her mother in particular tended to point out because they occasionally threatened the Lightwood reputation. Isabelle could be too hotheaded, too rash and impulsive, and worst of all — too self-indulgent. All traits that would keep her from becoming a decent leader according to her parents. And maybe they were right.

Still, Isabelle struggled with the injustice of it all, of them expecting nothing less than perfection from her and her brothers when they themselves had made so many mistakes in the past. Most of them worse than what she had ever done.

And yet Isabelle knew it didn't matter. Not really. These feelings were not just unimportant, they were dangerous. Fighting angry was fighting poorly. And there was no room for those kinds of mistakes in the next few days.

So Isabelle sat down on her bed and crossed her legs, closed her eyes and focused on letting it all go.

* * *

Clary set her bags down on the edge of the bed. She was in the middle of unpacking her glitter bag when the door flew open and Jace entered.

"I heard what happened."

He strode across the room, barely looking at the clothing she'd been unpacking, and took a hold of her shoulders to face him, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. It was so intense that for a second it felt as if she were standing in front of him completely naked.

She freed herself of his grasp and gave a gentle laugh, a reaction that bordered awkward. "I'm fine."

"I can see that," he said after a lengthy silence. "Why'd you go back?"

"I—I wanted a change of clothes." Considering what had happened to Alec, admitting that made her feel like an idiot. She could tell he'd already heard that part of the story and maybe he was just testing her to see the reality of it. "Have you been to see Alec? Spoken to Isabelle?"

"First thing I did," he answered, frowning slightly. "What's up with Izzy?"

"Her mother wasn't too impressed with what happened and she said some really awful stuff."

She could see the implication dawn on Jace but Clary didn't see a stitch of sympathy on his face. "Izzy was wrong, she shouldn't have let you go alone." He made the retort in a matter-of-fact tone and with zero unkindness. He believed it. "Had I known, I'd have gone with you."

And now, there was a touch of something in his tone, disapproval, and if Clary was really conceited, she might think a little jealousy. "It wasn't necessary."

"Clearly it was," he retorted.

Clary sighed and turned her attention to her belongings, separating the clothing from her painting supplies, watching as he picked up her old sketchbook and began to flip through it.

She hadn't gotten a lot of things, so packing it away didn't take her very long. Jace, however, didn't seem to have any intention to move and stayed close, reviewing.

"You're starting to freak me out," she commented.

She meant it as a joke, although the intensity he appeared to be looking at her with today was extra notched, so much so that it was almost like his eyeballs had manifested hands.

She shivered, and not in an entirely unpleasant way.

She turned to face him, to see if what she'd said had affected him in any way. It hadn't. He was holding the knife now, index finger pointing out the smear of blood that stained the blade.

"I'm okay," she repeated.

"So you've said."

"I did it to myself."

Jace's brows hitched and his lips twitched with amusement.

"I didn't fall and stab myself or anything, if that's what you're thinking, Jerk," she retorted, flashing a smile as she walked over and seated herself on the edge of her mattress. "Alec told me to cut myself."

Clary quickly explained the thinking with the rune. Jace looked impressed and simultaneously proud. The most emotion she'd seen him express. "And you did it?"

"You sound surprised."

He shrugged noncommittally, a gesture that was entirely insulting in some respect.

Silence befell them. It wasn't uncomfortable – at least not for her.

"I'll give this back to Alec," he said

Before she could say okay, he'd already turned on his heels and exited the bedroom.

* * *

Isabelle did feel a little better when she resurfaced from her meditation, though in the wake of her anger and humiliation rose the question whether or not she truly was too reckless at times. With her own life, perhaps, but what Shadowhunter wasn't? With the lives of others? People she cared about? She hadn't thought so. And yet her actions today said different.

She returned to the infirmary a good while later, glad to find it empty of everyone except for her brother who was still asleep in his bed. She pulled a chair over to his side and sat down, resting her feet on his mattress, and simply waited, watching over him.

She leaned back in her chair, taking turns between watching the rise and fall of Alec's chest as he slept and closing her own eyes to rest every now and then. She looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps and soon found Jace enter the infirmary, effortlessly twirling a knife between his fingers as he came to a halt at the foot of Alec's bed.

"They shouldn't have gone alone," he said, eyeing her.

She shot him a dark look but didn't comment. He already knew she knew, anyway, so what was the point?

"Alec's knife," Jace continued, holding the weapon out to her. She took it and put it on the nightstand next to her brother before leaning back in her seat again.

On the opposite side, Jace pulled another chair close and sat down as well. This was more or less a tradition when anyone of the three of them got hurt.

* * *

When Alec felt the pull of reality, slow and tentative, there was almost no immediate pain left. It took a moment to recollect where he was and why. He was reluctant to wake up, but it was wrong to overstay at the infirmary. He hated it, so the thought spurred him; he stirred, drawing a deep breath as he stretched a little. His shoulder was a tad sore, but it would be fine by tomorrow.

Izzy and Jace rested in their chairs on either side of his bed. Both were silent, and it didn't feel right. Just the same as when Jace had come to Alec's room earlier.

"Why so gloomy? I'm not dead yet. Well, not until I face our Heads, that is."

"You can call them Mom and Dad," Isabelle teased, pulling her feet off his bed and sitting up once it became clear he was awake and relatively unharmed. "At least when they're not here."

Alec gave his sister an ironic look. "Those days of Idris are gone, Izzy. Now they're the Heads of the Institute any time and any place unless they mention otherwise."

She knew, of course, but she was also more reluctant to uphold the protocol when it came to their parents and their status. She could be a rebel when unhappy about their dutiful distance, and there was little anyone could do about it. Alec still tried.

"How are you feeling?" Jace asked, mirroring her actions and straightening in his seat.

"I'm fine, just a few scratches," Alec looked at Jace and shrugged. "I know all you've been thinking all this time, and it was wholly my fault. It was stupid to believe there would be no one scouting their place."

"You two could've died, Alec," Jace said, leaning forward, his eyes sharp. "Why was it so hard to call me with you?"

Alec rolled his eyes. "I thought Izzy was coming, and when she wasn't, I made a mistake of trusting that I was enough. Okay? I was wrong."

Jace scoffed, dropping back against his chair. "Izzy I would get, but you? The one who never strays from the protocols, Alec? And it suddenly slipped your mind to take back-up? I don't believe it."

Alec observed him, scowling. There it was again – as if it wasn't Jace, anymore. Like something was possessing him.

"I already told you – I was annoyed I had to go, so I decided to just do it quick. And I paid for it. I'm not even finished paying yet. So what else do you want me to say? That I wanted to be alone with that girl? To do what, exactly?"

Jace was glowering with his eyes narrowed. It was a phantasmagorical sight for Alec who grew up with him.

"You almost died," Jace repeated, rapping the words out. "She could've died and we'd never find the Cup. It was that close. And you…" He set his jaw momentarily, then got up. "Whatever. I gotta go see about a scouting mission."

Isabelle frowned at Jace and the intensity of his glare, perturbed by his sudden change in demeanor from the easy-going, carefree boy they knew. He must truly care for Clary if this was his reaction because they all knew his anger had nothing to do with the Cup. It had been a mere two weeks, though. Was it even possible to fall in love that quickly? Despite all her flings and encounters with the opposite sex, Isabelle had never been in love. Nor did she ever want to be. As for Jace, if this was truly love, Isabelle feared for him.

She watched him go, then turned to Alec again, smiling softly as she pushed a lock of his hair from his forehead. "You did good, big brother. You got her back safe and sound."

Alec watched him go – more like storm out – then turned to Izzy, confused. "What is wrong with him? Is he actually jealous? Of  _her_?"

"Love makes you do the wacky," Isabelle murmured, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. "I guess he's scared of losing her before he's even got her."

Alec's eyes narrowed as he stared at her, dumbfounded for a long moment, unable – and unwilling – to follow the meaning of what she was implying. "Love? What does love have to do with that 'get her' agenda?"

"Oh, Alec, come on!" she chided him for being slow. "He fancies her! It's so obvious."

Alec kept staring at her, frowning and expectant. Yes, he knew what fancying was: in Jace's understanding, it was hunting her down until she let him have the prize, after which he usually lost interest pretty quickly. "Define fancies."

By the Angels, her brother could be daft sometimes. Isabelle couldn't help but snort a laugh. "As in he likes her for more than her girl-parts he hopes to play with. As in, if they have sex, he'll still want to keep her around. Affection, Alec. He's totally crushing on her."

Alec winced in disbelief. "How can you be so sure? It's the same thing every time: he looks crushing and then he loses interest when the tower falls. There's nothing different about this one."

"Oh, please, you know he hasn't been himself since we met Clary. He constantly wants to be with her, he has this savage need to keep her safe, and he gets upset when other boys" she gestured to Alec, "get to take care of her instead of him. It makes him feel threatened. I would have thought you'd be able to feel some of that through your bond?"

"I feel that he's confused and antsy. Plus the known set of urges he usually rides when he 'fancies' someone new. She's just that - new. Damsel in distress he gets to play a knight with. He used to fall for warriors, and this is different and new. Like a new toy he doesn't want to let out of hands."

"If you say so," she smirked, still convinced of her own theory but hoping for Jace's sake Alec was right. "So what happened back at the apartment? Clary said there were demons. No Circle members?"

Alec sighed and checked his shoulder. "Two dogs and two Circle members. If not for that portal, I'd have taken care of them. But I couldn't risk the girl's life."

"I know. You did the right thing," she assured him, genuine in her praise. "Do you think they knew you were there, or was it random?"

"I don't believe in random. We watched the premises, and they weren't there. But as soon as we came by, they arrived straight to the apartment. With two demons." He gave her a pointed look. "They found a way to track her, Izzy. The only way I can think of is her blood. Her mother's blood."

Isabelle inhaled deeply, leaning forward in her chair, elbows on her knees. "That means they'll follow us to Vegas. We'll have to cloak her. Otherwise we'll spend the entire mission fighting The Circle rather than doing what we came there for."

"We can't cloak her for long, it's pretty much useless until she gets initiated as a Shadowhunter. Before she accepts her first rune, we can't hope to hide her or empower her enough to be fully protected. And she's not ready for initiation."

"So what do you suggest?" It was possible their father would reconsider his orders Clary come with, considering what had happened today, but somehow Isabelle doubted it.

Alec leaned his head back against the pillow, eyeballing the ceiling while he analyzed the situation. "They have her mother's blood and her father's blood - it's a pretty good way of tracking her, but not perfect, nonetheless.

"Her mother is unconscious due to that potion Jace found in their bathroom after her disappearance, as our expert stated. That means she can't help them in any other way. And Valentine doesn't know his daughter, he has no spiritual connection to her, which plays in our favor and makes their tracking imperfect.

"It's good when they know she's in New York. But if she's out - it would take time to find her. A little bit of time."

"Then I suggest we work quickly and get her back here as soon as possible," Isabelle said. "Preferably before they catch on." It was unlikely to play out that way, but it should still be the goal. "Did Dad mention what kind of demonic activity has spiked over there lately? Any clues as to what we're looking for?"

"Someone's ritually killing young women in the desert. And demons are running rampant all over the city, as if attracted by something. More than before. Like they know something we don't."

Clair approached them to check on Alec, putting their discussion on hold. She cleared him to leave, and Alec met Izzy outside.

Isabelle stepped outside into the hallway and waited for Alec there while Clair gave him a final examination, her mind on the ritualistic killings he'd mentioned. Young women, eh? Guess there was a high possibility of Izzy playing bait again then. Unless they sought virgins, in which case she would either have to drastically tone down her usual style and behavior or offer up Alec.

When her brother joined her and headed towards his room, she followed.

"It's just my guess about the blood tracking," he said, "but even if we can't initiate her now, we still can find ways to protect her. If we combine methods with witches, we might be able to hide her better."

"Well, we don't exactly have any witches or warlocks on payroll at the moment." Nor were they very fond of their kind. Though Isabelle suspected Shadowhunters was a lesser known breed out on the west coast, considering there were fewer permanent Nephilim bases there. Maybe they could recruit help once they got to Vegas?

"We're all on the same side," Alec reasoned. "Any witch will gladly help us prevent Valentine from getting The Cup.

"But we'll have to discuss it all with the Heads."

"Mom and Dad," she corrected, just because she knew it annoyed him. And them. "Yeah, well, we better suggest it sooner rather than later, seeing as we're leaving tomorrow."

"Right after I shower - again - and go to face justice."

He gave her a smile, opening his room's door, and went in, expecting her to follow. He didn't suppose she had anything better to do until they solidified their plans on the upcoming trip.

She followed him inside and closed the door behind her, immediately heading for his closet while he went to wash up. Seeing as they didn't know how long they'd be gone, they definitely needed to pack more than they usually did for their missions, and knowing her brother he'd only choose to bring his hunting gear. She wouldn't allow it. He needed at least one change of clothes that would allow them to blend in among civilized company – mundane or otherwise.

She pulled some black slacks, a nice button up shirt, and a black jacket from his wardrobe and laid them out on his bed before selecting a pair of shoes that would compliment the outfit nicely.

Alec took a quick shower, then dried off and looked in the mirror. The restoration runes got paler already - they would be gone by tomorrow. The bite marks were skinned over and brightly pink. That also would be healed by next day with no trace.

He pulled his pants back on and returned to the bedroom, drying his hair on the towel. A grimace crossed his face when he saw the selection laid out on his bed. "I'm not going to be your Barbie doll, Izzy. You never pick anything practical."

"It doesn't hurt to have options, Alec. Unless you want to risk having to go shopping, of course," Isabelle grinned, resurfacing from his closet with a pair of shoes. "We don't know what we'll need, what establishments we need to infiltrate, people we need to talk to… It won't kill you not to wear a black t-shirt for a few hours."

Alec rolled his eyes. "I infiltrate while invisible. I can wear what I find comfortable for it. Actually, it's vitally important She sighed. "You're impossible." But she still packed the clothes into his favored bag, along with the shoes. "Get dressed so we can get the parental-judgement over with."

"I'm going to them alone," he plucked a shirt from the drawer and pulled it on. "It was me and the Fairchild girl, so I'm answering for it on my own. And if they choose to call you in later - they will. But it's not your fault, however it's ruled. You need to know that."

"I'm the one who roped you into it," she said, turning her back to him while he changed, fiddling with the ruby pendant around her neck. "I'm not letting you face them alone." That was not how they did things. They were a team, always.

"You have to let me, because it's right. I had a choice and I made it. You had nothing to do with it."

He put his boots on and glanced over the clothes on his bed with a fleeting wince. He hated disorder, and Izzy liked a touch of chaos. It brought her excitement and made him restless, which also amused her.

"And deprive Mom of the chance to chastise me again? Don't think she'll appreciate it," Isabelle murmured, carefully slipping those shoes into his bag. "It doesn't matter. I'm used to it."

"I'm sure she'll get her chance, anyway, if it's necessary, but you don't have to come to take it when it's a bit uncalled for."

* * *

Clary flipped through her old sketches, a lot of stuff she'd only drawn last month when things appeared to be simpler. She still couldn't believe that all of this was happening – that this had happened – and that Alec had almost been hurt because of her.

She knew it was their job, their sacred duty, and yet the thought didn't make her feel any better about it.

She didn't want to put anyone in harm's way and didn't want to be the reason that they were.

Clary sighed softly, rolled over onto her side and slid the sketchpad beneath the mattress to join the other. If she was going to be of use in Vegas, then she was going to have to get as much training in as she could before they left, particularly with a weapon. She'd already tried a few but none had spoken to her and she wasn't exactly Lara Croft at picking it up.

She rolled her head on her shoulders, slid off the mattress and left the guest quarters to direct herself toward the exercise room.

* * *

Alec cringed at Isabelle's packing of his bag, knowing he would have to repack again later, but didn't object to her face.

After a knock on the door, Jace peeked in. "Alec, a word?"

Isabelle immediately turned away from him, clinging to her grudge like a lifeline until both boys had stepped out into the hallway.

Jace looked guilty. "I'm sorry about my outburst, it was… unprofessional and uncalled for. I… couldn't rule myself down when I thought of what could have happened to you. Both of you. She's important for us, and you… You're too important for me."

Alec chuckled softly, uncertain of how he felt about that partial truth. A part of him itched and ached to confront Jace about what he truly felt for the girl, to make him say it, but another part wasn't eager at all to hear him admit anything around the term Love. Alec had never seen Jace in love with anyone before, and if that was it, Alec wasn't happy for him as he was supposed to be. Jace wasn't himself, anymore, and Alec dreaded the possibility of Jace staying that way for good. Alec wasn't sure he could handle having a stranger for a parabatai.

"I know, it's all right," he said, making himself smile. Jace returned it and pulled him into a hug.

"The Heads expect you," Jace said, pulling back. "I guess I need to apologize to Izzy, too."

Smiling, Alec patted his shoulder and started for the Head Office, and Jace entered the room.

Isabelle had used her solitude wisely, pulling out the clothes she knew her brother looked damn good in. If he insisted on wearing  _comfort_ , she'd at least make sure they highlighted his muscular physique. It could only help them, really. Everyone knew mundanes responded better to pretty people.

When the door opened again, Jace entered, Alec didn't follow, so she assumed he was well on his way to receive a verbal spanking. Isabelle threw the last shirt onto his bed and made for the door as well, intending to cut him off before he could reach the office so they could enter together. But Jace's hand shot out and wrapped around her upper arm, stopping her.

"Izzy, I'm sorry about earlier," he said, trying to meet her gaze, which she purposely averted just to give him a hard time. "I was just worried about Alec."

She snorted.

"And Clary," he admitted somewhat reluctantly. "Izzy, please, I'm sorry."

She hesitated another few seconds before finally looking at him, her earlier anger already gone, but her need to tease and needle him would never falter. "Next time you shout at me for no reason at all, I'm gonna kick your ass."

Jace grinned, knowing all was forgiven.


	3. Chapter 3

**SIN CITY - PART 3**

There were already two people on the training floor, going at each other, scarcely holding back (if at all), making her insides churn. Before Clary got here she'd never even thrown a punch, let alone slapped anyone, and now, like most, she was expected to put her whole weight behind it.

She watched them spar, and when they were done, slowly made her way up the line of steps to take over the punching bag as Alec had done earlier.

Only, and unlike everyone else, Clary didn't take off her shirt and wasn't wearing any of the usual gear. You had to have it to wear it, and in the past she'd never been into the gym or dance (aside from clubbing) and that was an entirely different sport.

Clary concentrated on the center, on the way she'd closed her fists and how to kick the bag. She repeated this a few times, unsure if she was doing it correctly despite the voice in her head that had replayed all she'd learnt over the last week and a half they'd actually begun to show her.

Hodge took pity on her, still sweaty from his fight with one of the other Shadowhunters, helpfully gifting her with pointers and better ways in which to turn into a punch and to make sure she kept her ground. He was one of the few, aside from the core three (or two, depending on the day) that cared to help. She guessed, as he'd said, because Clary reminded him of her mother.

* * *

Both Lightwoods were in the office when Alec came in and stood before their desk. Maryse was sitting at it while Robert stood by the window looking more lenient than Alec's mother, which was usually the case.

"Well," Maryse steepled her fingers before her, observing Alec as if mentally skimming through the list of punishments. "Tell us how this mission turned out to be almost lethal for our best asset and hope to locate the Cup, and one of our best soldiers."

"Isabelle brought it to my attention that the Fairchild girl needed her clothes or new ones, because the garments Isabelle was lending her didn't work to her – and our – best benefit. I was training at the time, so when I went to shower before setting out, I was under the impression Isabelle was coming with us. She was going to, indeed, but by the time I returned, she was engaged otherwise.

"It was up to me to pick another partner, but I decided to go alone, trusting that the cloaking rune would be enough for such a short mission to be a success.

"As it turned out upon our arrival to the Fairchilds' apartment, I was wrong. In order to guarantee Fairchild's safety, I opened the runic portal from her apartment to the Institute and thus sent her directly into the safe zone. After that, I made my escape with minor injuries that have been treated later at the Institute.

"At the apartment, I've encountered two Circle hunters and two demons in their dog form. How they managed to know we were there – which I don't doubt they have – I do not know. My assumption would be that Valentine could have been attempting to track her down using her mother's blood, or a mixture of both.

"As I said before, Isabelle bears no fault for this failure, for it was my decision to not take a partner. The fault is solely mine."

Alec glimpsed a ghost of a smile on his father's face, but it was habitually furtive on his part. It did feel a bit comforting, however Alec meant every word of what he said. The fault was his and his alone.

Maryse contemplated, regarding her son for a long moment of silence. Her husband had every right to hold the judgement equally, but he never spoke before her verdicts. All he ever tried was to smoothen their aftereffects after they had been delivered.

"Isabelle has admitted her lack of proper consideration for this mission," she said. "And I agree with her assessment. When she decided to not accompany you, it was her duty to assign another soldier in her stead. Is that not the correct and safe protocol?" She turned to Robert and was satisfied as he had to nod.

Alec understood she wasn't wrong at this, but the whole matter was up for debating if brought to an actual court. And eventually, it would have been between Isabelle and Alec to take the blame. Alec came here to take it, and they both understood it. Though Isabelle would still be standing here after Alec, even if for mere reprimand – he knew it, as well.

"Is it your intention to take the blame for it?" Robert asked.

"It is, for I feel it's fair."

He nodded and looked at Maryse. "Then so it is. Given it ended with no lethal outcome and all injuries have been treatable, you will walk with a reprimand and a lesson learned, and your mission in Vegas still stands."

"Under the new alarming circumstances and evidence that the Fairchild girl is being tracked," Maryse put in, "we shall have a briefing later tonight with you and Isabelle to work on the best safety solutions. As of right now, you're dismissed."

"Thank you." Alec bowed and left.

* * *

Clary had spent a good twenty minutes on the floor with Hodge doing hand to hand combat when she asked him if they could tend to some weapons. Various ones so that she could get the feel of them. He asked her where she wanted to start and she shrugged. He observed her for a second, smirked, and then returned from the weapons stand with throwing stars.

Clary looked at them, then up to him, eyebrows rising. "You're kidding me, right?"

"It's a weapon."

"I know that—"

"But?"

How did she explain that she felt silly and didn't really know the first thing about what to do with them. She knew one threw them, she'd seen it in hundreds of ninja movies, but now that she actually had one in her hand she felt entirely awkward and unsure of what to do with it. "I thought we'd start with something bigger, like the stick—"

"You mean a pole," he corrected.

"Or a sword."

"Seraph blade." He was smiling slightly, amused at her gracelessness. "We'll start small and work our way up."

She glanced down at the steel star she was holding, wondering if it was made of the same stuff that Isabelle's whip was and if it would morph into some deadly hammer-type thing once she threw it. He grabbed a hold of her shoulders, turned her to face the wall and a wooden podium with ridges in it she assumed was created by swords, arrows and whatever else people used for practice. He steered her toward a spot he speculated was far enough and then gestured for her to have at it.

Clary rolled the star around in her hand, getting a feel of it, of the weight, and then threw it – one after the other – none of them hitting the wooden bar.

They'd hit the mirror, the floor, and skidded to wedge themselves beneath a mat.

She glanced at him, saw him shrug and gesture for her to continue, and then he turned on his heels to leave her to it. She heaved a small sigh and went to retrieve them.

* * *

Alec didn't feel like returning to his room yet – and face the bag he had to repack. He imagined his sister would be immediately called to the Head Office and face her own talk, so his room would be abandoned. And while that was not a bad thing, given he still could use some extra time for rest and meditation, he didn't feel the pull.

Instead, he wandered through the corridors, strolled through the control room, and then remembered about his hunger. He could use a snack. In fact, he was half a day late with his lunch, and the earlier exhaustion made him hungrier.

As he was passing the training hall, a shade of auburn caught his eye. He stopped, peering through the glass door with amazement as the Fairchild girl toyed with weapons she wasn't supposed to wield without supervision.

He waited a moment before storming in, and observed her throw and miss again and again, how her posture was off, her arm was all wrong, and the way she threw them was totally out-of-the-roof hopeless. When she ran out of ammunition and went to pick them up all over the place, he walked in.

"It's not a toy, you know. You'll hurt yourself, so better stop before you do."

* * *

"So, you like her," Isabelle smirked at Jace as she put Alec's best suit jacket in a garment bag, hanging it over the closet door.

He gave her a puzzled look that made her wonder if all males shared the same cluelessness today.

"Clary. You like her." It wasn't a question.

Jace cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sure. I mean she's nice. Ho– … Pretty. Okay to look at."

"Mhmm," Isabelle drawled knowingly, lips still curved in a smirk. It was rare that Jace would hold back his enthusiasm for a girl with her. He never judged Izzy for her 'adventures' and she provided the same for him. A safe space to share and talk about these things that tended to make the third party of their trio highly uncomfortable.

The fact he seemed to be holding back now spoke volumes to her. It was more than just a fling. At least in his mind.

"Think she likes you too?"

He scoffed, assuming his usual cocky expression of a man who was highly attractive and well aware of it. "Why wouldn't she? I'm the best-looking Shadowhunter there ever was."

"And so humble," Isabelle remarked sarcastically.

They shared another amused look just as a knock sounded on the door.

"Isabelle? You in here?"

It was Maria, her parents' personal assistant. Izzy opened the door to face her and she shrank back a little, looking apologetic. "They want to see you."

Isabelle sighed and nodded, resigned to her fate, and left Jace behind.

* * *

Clary'd dropped to all fours to free up the stars that had literally gone in every direction and wedged themselves into every single space that could accommodate it.

If they hadn't been attacked today and she wasn't nervous about going to Vegas and possibly getting cornered by the Circle people again – this would be funny.

She hadn't been scrambling around long when the eldest Lightwood appeared, face pinched in its usual manner and without the temporary whiteness contributed by his poisoning. A good thing, she supposed, since he was healthy.

"Until a second ago, there was no one else here…" She gestured to the glass that separated the training room from the rest of the area. Hodge was standing on the opposite side. "And that picks up the slack. Besides, I thought that, if I'm going with you two tomorrow, I want to at least know how to use some of this stuff if I need to step in and help."

She climbed to her feet and moved to stand where she'd been directed before.

"You might want to take like twelve steps back."

What came out of her mouth was such nonsense that struck him as ridiculous, but he didn't feel like laughing.

"No, you might want to put those down where you took them. You can't learn to fight overnight. There's no rune to make you. Stop wasting time and do something that actually can help: go draw something, stimulate your memory."

Wow, if he was trying to shame her, he was doing a damn good job of it.

Only her head wouldn't allow it, that inner voice that was only just beginning to taste independence and hadn't wanted to go from living under one parent's roof (who she couldn't even find) to under the thumb of a bunch of sanctimonious half-breeds.

He was lucky he'd saved her today, or one of these stars would have ended up in his shoe.

"I didn't take them. Hodge gave them to me to use." She threw one of the stars as a means of being defiant, aiming at the wooden post but missing as she had done the first time. The second time it hit the side and ricocheted off into the floor. "Glad to see you're doing better."

Alec heaved an annoyed sigh, folding his arms to squelch the scorching need to punch something (or someone), and leaned back against the wall. She still insisted on continuing her worthless attempts and failing. There was going to be no miracle, and it was going to take eternity to make her understand that.

An eternity they didn't have.

"Don't you realize you're merely wasting time with this?" he asked when she missed another time. "They won't hit the targets by magic or your wish alone. It takes months of practice. You don't have months, we're leaving tomorrow. If you really want to be useful – why not do as you're being asked?"

Of course she realized that what she was doing was futile, Clary could see it every time one of those damn stars missed the post and went sailing into another hidey hole.

_She had to start somewhere._

"I thought the mission tomorrow had nothing to do with the Cup or Valentine?"

She paused for a minute, wondering if maybe they'd been lying to her, if they had, in fact, figured something out, not just about the Cup but her mother, as well, and were keeping it from her.

"Not directly," Alec replied, "but we can't rule out his hand in anything we have to investigate around the States. So if you would actually put some efforts into stirring your memory with drawing or whatever there is that works for you, it would help."

When he said it like that, it made more sense to her and sounded half-sensible. Clary wouldn't pick anything up in twenty-four hours—not on the physical side.

* * *

Isabelle stepped into her parents' office two minutes later. There was no sign of Alec, so she assumed he'd been dismissed and fled. A wise decision she intended to replicate as soon as possible.

Her mother was seated behind her desk, looking formidable as always, and father stood behind her with one hand resting on the back of her chair. Even though he was the most lenient of the two, Isabelle didn't seek out his gaze or make attempts at gaining his sympathy.

"You got lucky today," Maryse said as Isabelle came to a halt in front of her desk. "Alec could have been seriously hurt. The Fairchild girl could have been taken. Pure luck nothing worse happened."

Just a manner of speech, because Isabelle knew neither of them believed in something as common as luck.

"Luck had nothing to do with it. Alec's skills and quick thinking was what got them out safely."

"Yes, and he got injured in the process."

Isabelle hated that they kept pointing that out. Even if she had come, or someone else had taken her place, there would be no guarantees he and Clary would have come out unharmed. But that didn't seem to matter, and Izzy knew pointing it out would do no good.

"What were you doing while your brother was fighting for his life?"

Isabelle could tell from her tone of voice her mother didn't expect it to have been anything important. She often expected the worst. Probably because Isabelle occasionally went out of her way to show her mother that side of her.

"I was helping with forensic reports to be sent to The Clave," Isabelle stated honestly, relieved that Natalie could back her up on this if it was needed.

Maryse arched an eyebrow. "That couldn't have waited?"

Isabelle inhaled sharply, trying to keep her rising temper in check. "Yes," she said, struggling not to grit her teeth together. "In hindsight, it could have waited."

Maryse tsked and shared a brief look with Robert. "We expect more from you, Isabelle. You're not a child any longer and you need to start showing some responsibility. Do you understand?"

Izzy's fists clenched behind her back. "Yes, Ma'am."

"No more of these 'mistakes' or there will be serious repercussions." Maryse held her daughter's gaze just long enough to make certain Isabelle acknowledged her warning. "Dismissed."

* * *

Alec sighed, seeing she wasn't done making a fool out of herself, and stepped toward her, taking her by the wrist she was drawing back to throw another one that would miss the target by a mile.

The contact was surprising and she'd briefly considered resisting, unsure if he was about to manually remove the weapons from her hand and make more of a fool out of her than she did herself.

Thankfully, he didn't.

"You might want to start with darts," he remarked, nudging her into a better posture with another hand on her waist, aligning her against his own body as he stood behind. "Your wrist is stiff. You'll never hit anything with a hand that's like a boiled noodle, either. It should be the golden middle, you should feel it for yourself. Feel it fly and hit the target before it leaves your fingers. Feel its weight and texture and how it should cut through the air. Learning to do this is a meditation, and to succeed with any kind of weapons, you need to study your own body first. You need to be aware of your every cell, of your energy, of how it flows. And shuriken's not the best of starters."

She stiffened, attempting to read his position and hyper-aware of the hand on her waist, although, really, she shouldn't be, there was nothing invasive about it or the tone he was using to explain, and yet, all of it was unwittingly electrifying.

He pulled her wrist, moving her arm back and forth at first, to finally imitate the way her throw should be.

"Don't put too much force into it – you'll miss. Find the middle, the balance."

He let go of her and walked back toward the door. Before she could conjure up the why and figure out the reasoning he'd decided to actually give into her stubbornness, he was on his way out.

Clary followed him with her eyes, sucked in an unnecessary breath and focused on the wood post. She shifted the hand in the motion he'd shown her, over and over, and then let go. Steel sailed past it, as did the next one, and the next. Finding that golden middle wasn't as easy as he'd made it sound, and after a few more attempts she'd decided that ninja stars or shurikens weren't for her.

* * *

Isabelle didn't linger, striding out of the office and towards her room where she hoped to shake off this newly risen anger. A regrettable but normal consequence after spending time with her mother. All in all, it could have gone worse. At least they hadn't taken her off tomorrow's mission. Probably because no one else was available.

Inside her room, Isabelle slipped out of her high-heeled boots and leather trousers, unearthing her workout clothes from her closet because even if she had already trained for the day, there was only so much silent meditation she could endure. She needed to punch something.

Isabelle bandaged her hands as she walked the short distance from her room to the training area, intending to take her frustrations out on one of the punching bags. So far this day had sucked, and it didn't seem to get any better.

* * *

Alec cast a glance back at her from the door; she was trying to put his words to use, but failing. It was pathetic, all right, but also rather puzzling to him as of why she was persisting when she clearly had no talent for it.

He watched her collect them from the floor again, and read defeat in her movements. She seemed done.

"It wasn't you who picked that, was it," he said, approaching the weapons stand, and peered at her with a meek interest. His point was proven, and with that, irritation abated. "What would  _you_ pick?"

Clary had intended to call Hodge over, to thank him for the stars and to possibly try something else, only Alec had beat him to the punch.

Again, she was surprised.

She shook her head though, extending the stars toward him to take. It took her a moment, and then she gestured to the staves. "The polearm looks pretty coo— handy," she amended. "Are you any good with them? Or should I rather be asking what you're  _not_  good at?"

His lips twitched in amusement mixed with disdain. He pointed at a long pole with blades on both ends. "That's a polearm." He pointed at a spear-like weapon hanging above it. "As well as that. A staff is a pole with no blades on it. That would be better to start with than anything that cuts. I'm decent with them, but not what I'd call good. That's why we all have weapons of choice – something we can be more than good with."

Good thing he pointed them out since Clary'd believed that polearm and staff were the same thing. She hadn't realized that it was named differently simply because it had a blade.

_So much to learn and almost no time._

He pulled one of the training poles from the stand, put it in her hand and led her toward the punching bag attached to the floor at its base.

"Try it here. And mind that the bag sways, so it can kick you down with inertia. It provides better training."

She took the offered pole, testing its weight as she'd done with the star, trying to gauge if she could get it to move as she'd seen in all those karate movies she used to watch with Simon. Not that they were her speed, but he seemed to enjoy them.

The movement at the door drew his attention. It was Jace. He gave a curt nod of greeting but Alec sensed he wasn't pleased to see him in the same room with his target.

Clary smiled slightly, grateful for the bits of help Alec was extending her. "I'll practice my hawk eye," she joked lamely. To prove it, she gave the bag a thwack with the stick and carefully watched it sway. Only he didn't stick around to watch her and a small part of her was disappointed even as Jace arrived.

At least for a second.

Alec backed away and headed for the door once again, this time intending to walk out with no looking back. Isabelle almost bumped into him as he opened the door. She narrowly avoided colliding with him, bracing one hand at his side so she could move past. He looked a little more tired than usual to her, but Isabelle doubted he had just gone for another round of training considering Clair's advice to take it easy.

"You decided to pick a weapon, Clary?" Jace asked, approaching her.

"Sort of," Clary supplied, fixing Jace with an embarrassed smile. She wasn't up to explaining what she was doing for a second time and having it deemed laughable. "Lucky you missed my hand at the ninja stars."

"The what?" he asked, appearing baffled.

Clary glanced behind her, saw if they were anywhere on the shelf that she could see, and when she couldn't decide to save the explanation. Another time.

She gave the bag another hit, following it up with a second that she thought was a pretty cool one-two combination and made Jace grin.

That wasn't a good sign.

Isabelle watched Jace and Clary at the punching bag. She had to admit Fray looked a lot more comfortable out of the stilettos. Couldn't blame her. Isabelle hadn't really felt her feet since she was fourteen.

"You okay?" Isabelle asked her brother, assuming he understood she was asking about his meeting with their parents.

A momentary frown of confusion swept through his face. "Yes, I'm fine." He cast a short look at the pair next to the punching bag through the glass wall, and then it dawned on him. He turned to Izzy with a shrewd squint. "Was it bad?"

Isabelle shrugged. "Not really. Just the usual 'we expect more from you, Isabelle'," she mimicked their mother's cold voice, refastening the bandage on one hand. "You?"

He hemmed, amused, and shook his head. "I had to recite it all from beginning to end and find myself guilty on all accounts, which I actually stand by. And then they… well, she agreed with me. We have a briefing later about Vegas and the safety measures."

He looked at the couple training with the pole once again, feeling a bit melancholic at Jace's obvious enjoyment. A stark contrast to what he oozed before Alec went away leaving them alone. Alec had barely ever been present whenever Jace was wooing his newest contests, but he couldn't remember any hints of animosity or territorial behavior his parabatai was showing more and more during these two weeks she had been stuck with them.

Deep down, it stung. Alec tried to ignore it and pull the needle out, but it was still there, digging deeper.

They may have been reckless in their thinking but the fault was equally Isabelle's, in her book. Alec would never admit that, though. He was used to taking the heat for her whenever he could. Always the protective big brother.

"Can't wait," Isabelle murmured in response to the announcement of the briefing, following his gaze to where Jace was helping Clary pound one of the bags.

* * *

"Your stance is wrong," Jace stated.

Clary frowned and glanced down at her feet as if she expected to see what he was referring to.

He chuckled, walked up behind her in much the same fashion Alec had a minute ago, minus the care for personal space as one arm slipped around her waist and pulled her against his chest.

She swallowed, heat travelling to her cheeks, palms becoming sweaty once his hands found her own and closed around them, practically engulfing them, as he showed her where best to hit on the bag (and subsequent enemy) and how hard and which pressure points to acquaint herself with.

A lot of useful stuff, if the heat of his body pressed to her back wasn't so distracting.

After a while, he stepped back and observed her from the sidelines while she laid pretend waste to the punching bag, trying to mimic and put everything he'd shown her into action. Only, unlike with her effort with the stars, this felt more satisfying and as if she were doing something positive.

Probably because the weapon she was using had less chance of missing its target.

"Are you okay with going on the mission tomorrow?" he asked.

She fixed him with a brief look of curiosity and then nodded. "As okay as I'll ever be. Why?"

"You're green."

She gave the bag another thwack and straightened up slightly.

"A novice."

"I know what you mean, Jace."

"I should be going with you. With all of you."

She could agree there, that was usually their shtick, and she imagined they'd feel better about it. "I agree," she replied, seeing his chest puff out slightly and his lips twitch into a smirk.

He'd gone from surly to jaunty in half a second flat and then back to somber.

She scrutinized him for a further moment and then turned back to the bag, trying to apply more force to each hit, having forgotten Alec's warning about the swinging bag and its vengeance and paid for it. Thankfully, she righted herself before she could land on her ass or worse – her face. Jace laughed and took the opportunity to lumber up behind her again.

Once she managed to find a rhythm with the bag and the vigorous music she was making, he stepped back to observe, watching what she assumed was her ass mostly, before eventually concentrating on his family. She had no idea what he was thinking or what they were talking about in the gym's entryway, their heads bent together but, as always, they looked solemn.

The smiles were rare.

Not that being demon hunters since birth gave them much leeway for happiness.

She struck the bag a few more times, working the session until her arms started to feel achy and heavy and each attach appeared to be getting slower and clumsier.

Since she arrived at the institute, Clary'd worked out more than she ever had in her life.

She relaxed her stance, braced a hand against the swinging back and then moved to return the training pole back to its original position in the weapons area.

"You're done?" Jace asked once she returned.

"I guess."

"I'll show you a few key holds and how to break free of them."

He barely gave her time to consider before taking a hold of her, his attention solely fixed on her, explaining the pitfalls of an armlock and the weak spots and what to avoid.

* * *

"What did he say to you?" Isabelle asked Alec in a low voice, assuming he'd tell her if Jace had given him another earful about the Fairchild girl.

Alec tore his eyes from them to give Izzy a nonchalant look that was half a mask. "Nothing. He spoke to her, and I left them to it. It's what he wants, isn't it."

He touched a hand to her shoulder in a mute encouragement, and started away toward the cafeteria. It was going to be a takeout and some alone time in his room with packing.

There had been a time when they were children when Isabelle had envied Alec and Jace for their close relationship, and despite them never truly excluding her, she had felt as if she was standing on the outside. But that envy had long since passed and now it simply hurt her to see whenever the two had problems. Like now.

She added that emotion to her repertoire as she made her way over to one of the available punching bags, using it to fuel her motivation to get in a thorough workout. And she did. Combination after combination of punches and kicks were executed, the world around her falling away as if she was in a trance. A different kind of meditation she desperately needed before tonight's briefing.

* * *

Jace didn't take it easy on Clary, and before long they were rolling around on the floor together (more like her flailing) and he'd directed her legs across his face and showed her how to squeeze his head between her thighs and what to do with his arm.

When they broke apart, he appeared thoroughly satisfied while she wondered if maybe he'd dislocated her arm or if she'd even learnt anything that was going to stick. She doubted it, and more importantly, she doubted she would be able to make provision for any of it.

How was she going to be able to fall into a roll, snap her legs up over her head and grab her opponent like an upside down koala? He'd attempted to get her to do that twice. Neither had been successful.

"When you guys get back from your mission we'll pick up where we left off," he stated conversationally, appearing chipper for no apparent reason.

"Which is where?" she asked, swiping at her arms and knees, both of which throbbing from the unfamiliar abuse. She needed a deep tissue massage and a possible cry.

"With you on your back."

He was joking, of course, but Clary gave his arm an able punch, anyway. He didn't even try to block it. Maybe because he hadn't expected it. He grinned and averted his attention to Isabelle, admiring her powerful deliveries with the same kind of awe she'd bestowed Alec earlier.

"Let's eat," he announced, steering Clary toward the entrance with an eager shove. "Izzy!" he called before they left, raising his voice to be heard above the repeated sound of her connecting fists with the bag. "Hungry?"

Isabelle took hold of the punching bag, stilling its swaying, a little out of breath and sweat running down her forehead and back of her neck.

"Grab me something," she told him. "Need to shower first."

And she did. She wouldn't be caught dead in the cafeteria looking like this. The two of them left and Isabelle undid the bandages around her hands, flexing her fingers and testing her sore knuckles before following them outside.

She headed for her room where she undressed and went into the bathroom to wash.

Alec was exiting the cafeteria with his takeout container and a cup of tea when Jace and Clary arrived.

"Join us?" Jace offered, nodding toward the tables.

Alec shook his head. "Got to pack a bag and rest before the briefing."

"Okay," Jace grinned and gave Alec a friendly smack in the shoulder. He led her in while Alec walked around them into the corridor, heading for his room.

Sucking in a deep breath, Alec observed the bag and the clothes still lying on the bed, then forced himself to eat first. He took his e-book from the nightstand and settled in the chair, the container sitting next to him on the coffee table.

* * *

Considering the attack at the apartment, it sort of surprised Clary that, as a unit, they weren't more concerned with one another. Alec had been poisoned and he was on his feet again. Had it been Simon, she'd have been breathing down his neck.

She guessed this was just another day in the life for them.

_Sadly._

Clary grabbed a tray, claimed a plate of pasta and an apple and sat down at one of the tables. A majority of the tables were filled. The whole set up was kind of like high school.

Jace joined her with a tray for himself and another for Isabelle. He sat across from her, set the other down next to him and immediately began to tuck in.

"Is everything okay with Alec?"

"What do you mean?" he asked after a cursory beat of silence, his mouth still full, eyes glinted with interest.

"I mean, is he okay?"

He frowned and she could see that he had no idea what she was referring to, an expression that would have been picked up by anyone who understood an emotional scale. "He's fine."

Clary nodded with less certainty and stabbed a noodle, dismissing the conversation while they ate.

* * *

Isabelle showered quickly, more rapidly than she liked, forgoing her usual rituals of pampering and primping since she had people waiting for her and her stomach was rumbling with hunger.

She found Jace and Clary in the cafeteria ten minutes later. Jace had already devoured his meal and appeared to have just returned from a dessert hunt when Isabelle joined them, his tray laden with pudding cups and cookies. Alec would disapprove. Her brother was nowhere in sight, however. He must have chosen to eat in solitude today.

Isabelle flashed the two a smile and sat down at their table, pulling her own tray of pasta closer. "How do you like your training so far, Clary?"

"It's… hard," Clary stated honestly. Jace scooped another bout of pudding into his mouth and smirked. "It's always been hard, I never—this wasn't what I used to do. The closest I got to it was a self-defense class when I became a junior."

Clary shrugged lightly and pushed what remained of her pasta around her plate.

"Do Shadowhunters ever branch out to be anything else? Or is this it?"

Jace scoffed and Clary could that he thought the question was ridiculous. "What else would we want to be? What else could be better than this?"

She hadn't experienced the –this- he was talking about in its full able glory but what she did was pretty intense. She couldn't imagine living life on a dial like that all the time. Maybe the sense of purpose made up for that? Everyone wanted to be a hero.

Isabelle rolled her eyes at Jace who clearly didn't sense Clary's dismay and uncertainty about this whole situation.

"We're not all warriors," Isabelle explained since it seemed he had no intention to. "Most of us start training from an early age, but not everyone decide to become warriors. We can choose to be homemakers taking care of the children – future warriors – or serve The Clave in other ways. There are cooks, medics, weapon makers, historians, teachers, and so on. Though after the Uprising we lost quite a few warriors, so additions to our current ranks are always encouraged."

Clary smiled, thankful for Isabelle's transparency on their history and the few things that weren't clearly indicated in their books. They were so tightly wound, secretive and afraid of letting mundanes (and other outsiders) in on their history that it was all ambiguous. You really knew nothing unless they decided to share.

"Although our intellect always longs for clarity and certainty, our nature often finds uncertainty fascinating," Jace added, recounting the quote as though he were reading directly from the source and outwardly explaining Clary's reasoning for the line of conversation.

She hadn't expected that kind of awareness from him, especially since he appeared to have chosen to overlook what she'd been trying to discuss with him about Alec.

He winked, pushed his dessert and tray together, and rose to his feet. "Take care of this for me, will you, Iz?"

He left before she could answer, heading for what Clary assumed was the control room.

"Is he always like that?"

Isabelle followed Jace with her gaze as she shoveled some pasta into her mouth, a slight smile playing on the corner of her lips. "Arrogant, flirty, sarcastic, and defensive? That's our Jace." On the outside, anyway. The part of him he rarely allowed anyone other than Izzy and Alec to see was quite different. "He becomes more humble when you smack him around on the training mat, but… only for a minute or so."

Clary laughed softly, doubting there would be a time where she would even reach that kind of opportunity. They literally had years of combat and everything else under their belt. Not that she thought she'd be around that long.

Once the Mortal Cup thing was dealt with, Clary found her mother and Valentine was just gone – that would be it. She'd be left to go back to her life and attend Brooklyn Art Academy.

Isabelle grinned, taking a sip of her water. "What do you think of him?"

"Jace?" Clary asked dumbly, breaking her line of meditative thinking, confirming she'd heard the correct thing and slightly embarrassed her head had spaced for a second. "He's okay."

"Just okay?" Isabelle pressed, trying to gauge her reaction, wondering if she felt the same attraction to him as he clearly did for her. Most women did where Jace was involved. But maybe she wasn't used to such brashness.

A small smile twitched at the corner of Clary's mouth. This conversation reminded her of many she'd had over the years with various friends in like. Clary guessed that didn't change. "Well, maybe more than okay. But just a smidgen. He did save me."

"Mhmm. A knight in not so shiny armor," Isabelle agreed, silent a few moments so she could get another bite in before continuing. "Do you date a lot? What are the boys like where you're from?"

Oddly phrased considering they were still in New York, but Isabelle assumed Clary knew what she meant.

Isabelle walked among humans enough (even if it was unseen) you'd think she'd have a fair idea on that particular subject, Clary thought.

"From what I know, most boys can be quite juvenile, especially at our age – assuming we're the same age. They're also forward, awkward and horny. I don't know, I—I haven't really dove into the subject matter as of late as I've been focused on my art. What about you? Do you date?"

Isabelle supposed mundane boys weren't so different from Shadowhunters, except her kind tended to hide their urges and emotions better than the humans.

Izzy squinted, shifting a little in her chair as she attempted to find the right description for her situation. "I don't so much 'date' as I have… encounters with the opposite sex." She leaned in over the table, lowering her voice despite the sly gleam in her eyes, "It's wildly frowned upon."

"The dating or the encounters?" Clary asked and leaned forward to accommodate the fact that Izzy was privately sharing something with her.

"Sex," Isabelle clarified. "When it's not with your one, true mate, anyway. Many of our kind see it as a disturbance to our energy, our bodies. Like alcohol or caffeine. As Shadowhunters we want to stay as pure as possible for our angelic heritage."

"You've never been on a date? Have you had a boyfriend? Do Shadowhunters even have such… mundane labels?"

Isabelle leaned back a little, considering her questions. "Depends on what you mean by boyfriend? I've been with the same person several times, and we are friendly and can enjoy spending time together in other situations as well. But not to the point where we interfere in each other's lives. I suppose the right description would be 'casual'?"

"A boyfriend is usually someone who is there for you, whose company you enjoy, who can make you laugh and also who you have sex with – if, if that's what you want." In comparison, Clary felt ludicrous trying to explain it when their views seemed so unconventional. "How do you know who your one true mate is? Do you have to do some kind of ritual? Are you allowed to date outside of well—" She gestured around to indicate the inside of the Institute and its people. Isabelle was offering her information and she was grasping with both hands.

"Then no, I have never had a boyfriend."

In fact, Clary's descriptions (sans the sex) sounded a lot like Isabelle's relationship with Alec and Jace. Which would explain why she'd never felt she needed more than sex from anyone else.

"You fall in love, I suppose. Get married. There are no guarantees it will last, but usually, it does."

Divorces were rare in their community. Not because spouses always got along, but because their stubborn nature and loyalty often ran deeper than personal desires.

"We're allowed to fall in love with whomever we want, but there might be consequences depending on the situation. Interbreeding between the races is not permitted."

There didn't sound like much of a difference to their way of finding love than there was in Clary's world—her ex-world. Except for the rising divorce rate.

"What kind of consequences?" Isabelle had her now, and Clary was finding it hard to just let the topic slide.

"From the few stories I've heard of Shadowhunters who have fallen in love with mundanes, they can either choose to split from the mundane or stay with them, have their runes removed, and live as a mundane."

The ultimate sacrifice which explained one of the reasons most Shadowhunters didn't feel like engaging in the lives of mundanes beyond protecting them from demons.

Clary hadn't thought that they could remove the runes. They looked like tattoos and since they were magic Clary assumed that they would be perfect fixtures. That gave a bit of a relief since the one on her neck was still something she was growing accustomed to and unsure she liked.

But did that mean that the demon venom would take over her body again? Did that even pertain to her or was it just a consequential thing that happened to certain individuals?

"Has Jace had many girlfriends?" she asked. "Alec?"

Isabelle grinned at her next question, pushed her plate aside and had another sip of her water. "That's for them to answer. So you and Simon have never… got it on?"

"No, no, no," Clary answered, disturbed by the imagery, chuckling softly. "He's like my brother."

"Does he know that?" Isabelle asked, because despite her limited time in the presence of Simon Lewis even Izzy had noticed how he looked at Clary. Like she was the sun and moon and all the stars.

"It never came up," Clary offered with the slightest of frown. Nor was she sure she wanted it to. She'd never thought about him like that.

Clary wanted to ask her why she'd brought up the Simon thing but she wasn't ready to tackle that can of worms. She really wasn't ready. Not on top of what she was already dealing with in regards to her mom and the fact that she was a possible Shadowhunter herself – well, not possible – she was.

She'd have died otherwise due to that demon bite.

At least that was what she'd been told by Jace.

Isabelle shrugged, deciding it wasn't important unless it was something she wanted to talk about. "Alec and I will receive some more information about the mission this evening. If there is anything new and important for you to know, we can stop by your room later?"

She got to her feet and gathered her tray along with Jace's, heading over to the clearing-station where she disposed of the food scraps and sorted the plates and cutlery to be washed.

Clary watched her clear her tray and their plates and waited a beat before doing the same.

* * *

When Alec was done with fixing what Izzy had tried to pack, he felt even more like resting. If not for that briefing later, he would have grabbed those extra hours of sleep and not even felt guilty for using that time in favor of laziness instead of training.

But if sleep was out of his immediate list of options, he settled for meditation. He sat back in his chair, putting his feet on the corner of his bed, and closed his eyes, focusing within him to calm his mind.

* * *

They might have to equip Clary with some more runes, as well, depending on how the Heads chose to deal with cloaking her from Valentine and his men, but Isabelle decided not to bring that up unless it was necessary. Clary hadn't reacted all that happily the first time around, and Izzy doubted additional runes would be very welcome.

"You managed to get some clothes from home, right?"

"Yeah, Alec… made sure I got everything I needed." She didn't bother to mention that she'd been ready to go and that it was the extra three minutes he gave her that kind of screwed them over. "I'll wash these—" she said, glancing down at her attire she was sure was speckled with dirt and blood. "Before I give them back."

Isabelle waved a hand, unconcerned with the state of the clothes she'd borrowed. "Whenever you have time. There's no hurry. I have plenty. Just make sure you have everything packed tonight, because if I know my parents they will demand we leave at first light tomorrow."

"How long do you think we'll be there?" Clary asked, setting aside the tray on top where the kitchen staff could take care of it when they were ready.

She headed toward the exit, assuming Isabelle would follow, and that they could talk while walking.

"Depends. Unless we get exceptionally lucky and gain all the information we need at once, I suspect it will be a few days at the least." Isabelle sauntered behind her out of the cafeteria, heading in the direction of the wing where most of the bedrooms were located. She still had packing to do. "You nervous?"

"After what happened today?" Clary nodded. "Pretty much a default setting. At least I now know how to get caught in an armlock. And use a stick. I'm going to be great back up."

Jace had meant well (Clary assumed) with what he'd been trying to teach her, but really, she'd sucked so much in trying to mimic his actions that she hadn't really understood any of it. She couldn't see how she'd be able to put it into action.

"Don't worry about it," Isabelle said, patting her shoulder gently. "I'm sure you'll be great bait." A grin took hold of her lips, teasing but well-meaning in nature. They came to a halt outside of her room. "I'm going to pack. I'll see you later, okay? And really, try not to worry. Alec and I won't let anything happen to you."

"I'm already such a natural at being bait," Clary retorted, returning her grin although the idea made her stomach all jumbly.

Clary gave a nod and mouthed the word okay, waiting until Isabelle had disappeared into her room before slowly making the trek to the guest room on the opposite side of the church.

She hadn't made it all the way there before a set of footsteps rushed up behind her.

"Fairchild," the voice said from behind her.

Everyone had been referring to her as Fairchild because of her mother's apparent Shadowhunter name and Clary was still getting used to it. She'd been Fray for eighteen years and they were suddenly trying to change it up along with the rest of her shambled life.

"Fray," she corrected as she turned to face the person. She'd recognized her as one of the administrators. "Clary Fray."

"The Heads would like to see you."

The Lightwoods.

_Fantastic._

Clary hadn't thought she'd get pulled into the office but she supposed nearly getting their son killed for a pair of jeans called for some kind of scolding.

She nodded and followed the messenger back through the residential block and broke away to head toward their office. Space they temporarily shared while Robert visited. Apparently, he usually stayed in some other world with their youngest son Max. That had to be hard on a marriage.

She knocked lightly and heard the man in question from inside, "Enter."

Clary did and did so with an adept smile. She walked over to one of the chairs in front of their desk. Robert was seated while Maryse stood to his right like every political wife ever. Like their oldest, they weren't smiling – at least she wasn't. Robert appeared to be better at reading the room.

"You've been informed of your trip to Vegas?"

"Yes, Sir."

Robert seemed pleased, Maryse not so much. She had a striking resemblance to Alec. "Do you have any questions?"

"I'd just like to know what's expected of me."

"Apart from helping with the Mortal Cup – nothing. Isabelle and Alec will take care of everything. You're just expected to listen and follow their guidance."

A sentiment that echoed what his daughter had said a short while ago.

"And not to repeat what happened today," Maryse added.

"I—"

"You put my son at risk."

"Yes, ma'am—I-I know and I'm sorry."

Robert speared his wife with a look, one that had her shift back to composed and settled and away from the temporary mother she'd become in the face of nearly having lost her son to someone else's stupidity.

"How are you getting on with Jace?" Robert asked.

Clary frowned slightly, wondering if they were similarly asking her if she had a crush on him as Izzy had done in the cafeteria and what might have happened if Clary said yes.

"Good," she offered, choosing to assume that they were talking about something else entirely. The two shared a look, referred to a page on the desk and then pressed on.

"And Izzy? Alec?"

"Everyone's been really incredible, I've learnt a lot from them."

Both appeared to preen, as if she'd complimented them instead of their children. They pushed some pages around and then Robert rolled his chair away from the desk and stood, Maryse took his place.

"Before you go, maybe you could tell me in your own words what happened today. Starting with why Isabelle Lightwood didn't join you on your mission."

Clary cast a glance at Robert who'd turned his back to them, focusing on the window, resigned to the fact that his wife wasn't going to let the transgression go until all three stories lined up. She believed that Alec would do just about anything to protect Isabelle and that her incompetence, despite its outcome, should have some kind of reprimand or punishment. Deciding its outcome and when it was to happen felt like it landed on Clary's shoulders. Clary repeated what Isabelle had said in the infirmary when her mother first arrived to snipe at her, including her step to step movements with Alec when they got there, the fact that Clary'd taken a little longer than was necessary and that he'd been quick thinking. When Clary was done, Robert had turned to face her again and laid a satisfied hand on his wife's shoulder, an 'it's over, let's move on now' sort of signal that was unmissable. Maryse almost seemed disappointed. For the life of her, Clary couldn't figure out why. They thanked her for her truth and then said she was free to go.

She made her way out of the office and slowly found herself heading to Alec's room.

Ten minutes later, she knocked on his door.

The knock yanked Alec from the meditation, and it occurred to him he nearly nodded off.

He rubbed his eyes, getting off the chair with a bit of reluctance, and stretched, working the kinks out of his neck as he went to get the door. He expected Izzy or Jace, but there was the Fairchild girl, looking like a lost kitten under the rain.

"Something happened?"

"No, nothing happened, nothing serious." She didn't want him to think that the only reason she was knocking on his door was because the place was suddenly under attack and he needed to be on guard. "I was just called in to talk to your parents—the er… the Heads." It was so weird to refer to someone's parents with such authority. "I… would you mind if I come in?"

Alec frowned, uncertain what to make of the Heads' desire to speak to her, but assumed there might be a few questions they had collected since the girl's last visit to them a week ago.

Her request made him cringe, but he stepped aside, waving a come-in hand, and closed the door as she did.

Clary hadn't been in his bedroom before and she found that it was all a bit strict and orderly, a lot like who he was on the outside. Usually a person's personal space gave you insight into what they were like, what they were really like, and yet here, there wasn't even a contradicting hint.

She turned to face him, making a point of not venturing too far since she didn't want him to feel like she was taking over or had come to intrude, they were already on such thin ice.

_How are we going to handle Vegas?_

"They… or, well, your mother, she questioned me on what happened today. With the apartment, the demons, and more importantly your sister. I got the impression she was trying to dig for something. Not that I'm saying she is. It's just a vibe."

Alec folded his arms, a frown crossing his face as he tried to see what she was insinuating. There was nothing strange about the Heads asking for her insight, but apparently, the Fairchild kid felt suspicious. It rang slightly funny to him, almost enough to smile. "Digging for what, exactly?"

Surely he was aware of his mother's animosity toward his sister? Unless he was trying to make Clary believe that it was just the way Shadowhunter parents dealt with their children.

"I don't know," she admitted honestly. "But I feel like they… she was trying to figure out if Izzy intentionally botched the  _mission_."

Alec knew for a fact that Maryse Lightwood would never search for a reason to believe Izzy could intentionally screw up a mission and put him in danger. It would rather be the opposite hope on her part. However, to someone who had never faced those Head Office moments, it could be hard to understand or perceive the right way.

"They know she didn't. All they were trying to get from you is your version – with the sole goal to see the whole picture and collect all the information. It's just strange for you, given your mother's raised you as a mundane."

He regarded her with interest. Seemed like she came to him for protection for Izzy. It was silly to assume Alec wouldn't have done his part already, but she didn't know any better. Just as about anything else concerning their lifestyle.

"I've been there first and told them the mistake was solely mine. You don't need to worry about Izzy. No one's going to punish her wrongly."

Clary couldn't tell if he actually believed that or if he was just defending his parents so that they didn't come off like a bunch of assholes.

He was right, though, it was strange and it didn't sit right in the pit of her stomach. Clary also didn't like the idea that something she could have said might have hurt Isabelle in some way.

All of this had been Clary's fault, anyway.

She nodded, satisfied that what he was saying was true, having found that she could rely on their word. Not that they hadn't given her physical reason for that, but emotionally, she also just knew.

Maybe it was their angel energy?

"Good," she mused. "And you? Did you get in much trouble for taking me?"

Alec chuckled and returned to his chair, waving at the other one out of courtesy. "No one got in trouble more serious than a reprimand for not following the protocol. It would have been more serious had either of us died or gotten hurt more severely. The judgement in our world is as fair as possible. You need to understand that. What you're used to in the world you've been raised in has little in common with our ways of doing things."

The fact that he'd invited her to sit was another surprise. Clary accepted the offer with a smile of thanks and slipped her hands onto her knees as she sat. "That's becoming more and more obvious every day," she agreed. "What would have happened if you had died?"

"A funeral ceremony," Alec said simply, leaning back into the chair, wondering what made her come here and even decide to stay. He was under the impression she was reading him right and thus preferred to avoid him in favor of Jace and Izzy who welcomed all her child-like questions of why and how and what.

"That's not what I meant," she said, refraining from rolling her eyes considering how close he'd come to that very thing – for her. "I meant to Isabelle. Would she have been held accountable?"

Clary knew emotionally Isabelle would have blamed herself, but that wasn't what Clary was asking. She was trying to figure out the law and their way of viewing things. How strict and bad would it have been for her and how was Clary going to prevent it in future. She barely even understood their laws and whether they even applied to her when she wasn't really a part of them to begin with?

Alec thought about it a moment, and shrugged. "Given I wouldn't be there to tell them I chose to go alone, she would probably be held accountable for not assigning her own replacement before attending another task. But in all fairness, the blame would still not be solely on her, but on me, as well. The fact that I haven't picked another hunter to go with us wouldn't have changed. The fact that it was my decision wouldn't have changed."

That didn't really make her feel better, reminding her how easily all of this could have gone wrong had he not gotten her out as he did and how close they'd come to whatever the circle had in store for her. God, she hoped it wasn't torture. Clary would bend like a wet noodle and had nothing to offer them. Not a stitch of information.

Maybe it was better she stuck to the amnesia bit.

"Lesson learned," she murmured.

Not for him – he had it together – but for her.

She inhaled slightly, glanced at her fingernails and the one she'd damaged with her nervousness, and then met his gaze again. "I haven't actually had the time to say it yet, but uh… thank you for getting me out."

"I was doing my job."

It was strange to him that she viewed it like he did her a favor that was his choice. But then again, they belonged to different cultures. He didn't put too much efforts into the intricacies of socializing norms among mundanes.

"You're welcome," he added, just in case it was what she expected to hear.

Clary smiled at his courtesy, feeling the concerns she had about them butting heads at a constant sweep away. Oh, she didn't doubt that it would happen a lot – it had since she got here – but it was nice to know that they'd reached a kind of common ground where he could be polite in a way that didn't have him go all grumpy-face or eye-rolly.

She imagined if she stayed a few more minutes and dove off into random topic land that he would.

_'Baby steps, Clary.'_

Like the ninja stars Hodge had given her.

"Anyway," she said before things could get socially awkward, "I'm kind of beat. I'll take a shower and get an early jump-start on my sleep. Isabelle said if we were to leave it would be pretty early in the morning." She slapped her hands to her knees gently and then stood. "One of you will wake me?"

"We won't leave without you, unfortunately, so don't worry. No one's allowed to leave you behind." He stood up when she did. "It is going to be early, though."

Clary gave him a look that made her wonder if he'd been able to read her mind and what she'd been thinking half a second ago about the status of their fragile alliance.

"I can deal with early," she said, still smiling. "I can't promise I'll be nice though. I'm not known to be a morning person."

A warning that was meant to be a joke despite its truth. She walked toward the door and opened it, gasping softly when she came face to face with Jace. She hadn't expected anyone.

"Cozy?"

"Not yet," she retorted, glad she hadn't lost her composure completely by being jumpy. She extended a hand and steered Jace back a step so that she could exit, casting Alec a last look as she did. "I'll see you in the morning."

She didn't wait on his reply or linger to hear what else Jace could possibly insinuate as she made her way to the guest rooms.

Alec made no response to her tirade as she exited, and focused his attention on Jace as soon as the redhead was out of his space.

Jace gave him a sharp, probing look, and went in past him, plopped in the chair Fairchild had been occupying a minute ago. He looked around and saw Alec's bag sitting next to the bookcase, all ready.

"Packed already?"

"Yes, Izzy's choices needed to be rectified."

He laughed. "Oh yeah, God forbid you wear anything she deems sexy."

Alec rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair. "You two are unbelievable."

"You're gonna miss it, brother. You'll see." He put his hands behind his head, leaning back, grinning. "I'd give anything to see how they combine efforts to push you off your beloved balance."

"I'd suggest you gain a little faith in my balance." Alec gave him a mock chiding look, and they laughed.

"Seriously though, I should be coming with you, and she's better off here. Why would they decide otherwise?"

Alec rubbed his neck, sighing. "I don't know. I'm not sure I want to know. It's so much easier to just take the orders and go with it."

"Yeah, for you. I'd like to know why I have to do what they order. It's nice to see the reasoning, am I wrong?"

"They want us to be with her in case she remembers something, and I guess it's not unreasonable. Sending her to another city, however, is not something I would've done. But it's not my decision to make, and frankly, I'm glad it isn't."

Jace leaned forward, propping his elbows on the knees. "Actually, I wanted to hear your thoughts about something. I'm staying behind and have to investigate how they found out when and where she would be. How did they know you went to her apartment?"

"I already told the Heads, they must be tracking her with her parents' blood. We'll have to find a way to hide her better, which is tricky without her wearing runes."

"Yes! Tell me, how is it wise for her to leave the Institute before her initiation? It's basically using her as a bait. Of course she can get hurt. It's a matter of time, and there needs to be more people coming with you. With just the two of you, it's like a suicide mission. It's stupid."

Alec saw his agenda as clear as day. But even though Jace was bending the arguments in its favor, Alec didn't see them as utterly wrong. He wasn't too far from a fair assessment, and perhaps it needed to be discussed on the upcoming briefing. "I'll tell them when they call us again."

"Put a word in for me?" Jace smiled as if they had a common secret. "I still don't see how it'd be wiser to keep me here when we're a team, the three of us. I thought the whole point of that and our bond was to use it to our advantage. And we're perfect together. They can't be oblivious to that."

"I'm sure they aren't. We'll see how it goes."

Jace reflected, his eyes traveling across the rug under his feet, then looked up at Alec, pensive. "Think there is a way to disrupt the blood tracking?"

"If it's not her blood, it's not perfect. But without her runes, it's a tricky business to protect her from it. We need mages for it. But even that would require a lot of magical tricks, I'm sure. Valentine's pretty determined, from the looks of it."

Jace squinted, eyeballing Alec as he was mulling it over. "He doesn't necessarily want her – just like those hulks told us, they want her for The Cup."

Alec narrowed his eyes, unwittingly mimicking him as he saw where Jace was going with it. "Which she doesn't know where to get because she doesn't remember. Think they know about Bane's block? I sort of doubt it, unless her mother told them before drinking the potion."

"That potion would prevent her from telling them anything, and I doubt she has. I doubt they know. Means they think Clary knows where The Cup is."

"And why wouldn't we have taken it already then?"

Jace winced and dropped his gaze downward, pondering. "Maybe she didn't tell us right away, either? Because she doesn't trust us? Or getting it requires some other manipulations we haven't gotten to yet."

"They can as well decide we're going to Vegas to get it, then," Alec scowled. "In case they find out about that."

"With blood tracking, they probably will. Are there any hunters in Vegas?"

"There's a headquarters with maybe a dozen."

"Better than nothing. But compared to Valentine's resources, you're outnumbered. There should be a plan, must be something we can do to throw them off. What if…" He looked at Alec, a sly glint in his eye. "What if they think we already have what they want?"

"Faking it?" Alec began to smile. "If it's all they need her for, it might work to get their target off her back. If we're lucky. But it will put a huge target on each and every one of us and the Institute. Means they will bring war on every hunter's head once they step outside the Institute's wards. Think it's a better outcome?"

Jace shrugged. "If she would've really delivered The Cup – would it be different?"

"No. No, it wouldn't."

"So if we trick them, the only thing we lose is a breather before they'd be all over us anyway."

Alec had to agree and nodded. "I think you should be at that briefing. And Izzy has to be in on it."

Jace grinned. "Thanks, brother. We gotta fill her in, then, shall we?"

He produced his phone and texted Izzy to come over.


	4. Chapter 4

**SIN CITY — PART 4**

Isabelle precariously filled a small suitcase to the point of its seams splitting, forcing a varied selection of clothes, self-care products, and weapons into each and every pocket of space available. Everything seemed hugely important to bring so she hadn't talked herself out of any of it.

It had taken her longer than expected, though, and before she knew it, a full hour had passed, the trance of packing and sorting through her belongings only breaking when her phone buzzed to alert her to Jace's text. She gave it a quick read and immediately headed for Alec's room where he had told her to meet them, curious as to what her brothers had in mind and a little apprehensive it would be something she wouldn't like.

Isabelle didn't bother knocking, seeing as they were expecting her, stepping inside and closing the door behind her, eyeing the two boys who looked suspiciously pleased with themselves. "What did you do?"

"Talked," Jace replied.

He told her what they had been discussing, then sat back in his chair with a triumphant smirk.

"You need me. We're a team, and your parents should hear this."

Isabelle folded her arms across her chest and regarded Jace with amusement. Not because their plans were bad, but because he looked so smug it was almost unbearable. "And how do you propose we trick Valentine into believing we already have the Cup? Randomly wave a copy around for him and his men to see?"

"That part is up for discussion," Jace said and grinned like a sated cat. "We couldn't leave you nothing to wreck your head over, Iz. So you're here and can help now. Ideas?"

"Off the top of my head, no. Nothing but the standard decoy method. We do have some very convincing replicas of the Cup in the library. Place one somewhere in the city and send a team to retrieve it. The Circle are sure to be watching." Isabelle shrugged, moving to take a seat on the foot of Alec's bed, looking between the two of them. "Would be best to make even our own people believe it was the real Cup for now. Just in case there are still Circle members on the inside."

"Well, that wouldn't last - it's easy to check whether it's real or not," Alec reasoned. "But this way we could also catch the mole if they decided to make sure."

Isabelle nodded, in agreement with Alec's thinking, "Exactly."

Though Isabelle wanted to trust all of their people, it was hard to do when remembering how so many had turned against The Clave a little more than a decade ago. And there was no way everyone involved with The Circle had been caught at the time.

"I should come with you to Vegas," Jace said again, looking at Izzy, probing for reaction. "We've been a perfect team for years, and it's for the best that we keep working together. We're not as effective apart."

Jace's insistence made Izzy smile again. She nudged his leg with her foot. "That hard to stay away from her, huh?"

Jace rolled his eyes, huffing with an exaggerated annoyance. "Oh please. It's not my room she walked out of ten minutes ago." He looked at Alec pointedly. Alec held the gaze, deadpan. "So I've no idea what you're trying to insinuate, Izzy," Jace resoluted.

But you wish it was your room, is what Isabelle wanted to say, but seeing the look on Jace's face she decided not to. There were times she could push and tease her brothers, and times were it was unwise. This felt like the latter. He was already genuinely annoyed, though it felt more directed at Alec than her.

She shrugged. "Never mind. We'll suggest it at the briefing. They'll probably agree. It's rare they send any of us without the others."

Jace smiled. "Great. I hope they listen." He got up and looked between his siblings. "Seeing your briefing's gonna happen soon enough, I better go tend to that meditation I skipped earlier."

He saluted and sauntered for the door. Alec watched him exit, then turned to Izzy with a tired expression.

"I want the old Jace back. The one I actually know."

"You don't know this one?" Isabelle asked, laying back on his bed and lazily examining her fingernails. "He's moodier than usual, I'll give you that. Think he'll endanger the mission?"

"Why every time he's coming to me in these past few days it's about that girl? Like the world started to spin differently and with her as the center now. He's weird, unfocused and lightheaded, and probably a bit obsessed. So what do you think?"

"I already told you my theory," she said, peering up at her brother. "I think he's a danger to himself more than anything. Don't know what would be worse for him – coming with or staying behind."

"For him? What about us? And Clary? Will he even let her be in peace and recover the memories we need her to get to?"

"Probably not. Though, if she feels safe with him there, she might be more inclined to search her memories."

"The only one suitable to ask her that question and expect an honest answer is you," Alec said. "And I believe we need to ask her about that. The way she feels is the key to what we want from her. We have to know."

Isabelle sat up. "Well, I know she likes him. Though I doubt as intensely as he likes her. She's had other stuff on her mind, after all."

She got up with a slight groan, this day wearing on her in a way she didn't quite like.

"Guess I'll go pester her about it again before the briefing."

Frowning, Alec reflected on how she estimated Jace's feelings. He peered up at her, feeling as confused as he sensed Jace did.

"He doesn't even know her, Izzy. He met her two weeks ago and barely scratched the surface of what she is like during all those knightly and cocky escapades he showered her with. How can he be sure he's in love? How can you be in love with someone you don't know?"

"He can't be sure. But even a crush can feel like love at the time. Especially if you've never been in love before and have nothing to compare it with." As far as Isabelle knew, none in their trio had ever been in love. Lust was a different thing. "I'm just saying, he rarely works this hard to get into a girl's knickers. So I assume there is more there. At least for now."

All that gradation with love and crush confused Alec even more. It wasn't his area to debate.

"He's working so hard because it's the rush of hunt. He chases, put traps around and manipulates until she surrenders. It's the usual game. It doesn't really sit too far from what has been before in that sense.

"And how do you define a crush? Your terminology baffles me."

"True, but his mood is completely different," Isabelle said. "And it changed when we met Clary. He's possessive and jealous and moody. He never was before. Not with us."

She folded her arms across her chest again, trying to decide how to best describe it all.

"A crush is an intense but brief infatuation. But the problem is you don't know it's a temporary thing, because in the moment it feels eternal. Something that will last. That's why it's so easy to confuse for love, genuine affection. Because that kind of feeling doesn't just fade if left alone for a while."

"He can't be eternally in love with someone he doesn't know," Alec recited. "Unless it's a karmic relationship, which we can't tell yet.

"His usual type was someone equal who could kick his ass, and it excited him to get an upper hand on all accounts. This one is just different, an opposite, someone who inspires to protect and tickles him from a completely different side he never really tried before. That's why it's a new and exciting toy he doesn't want to leave until he wins and sees the same adoration in her eyes he's used to seek in other women."

"Well, I've a feeling she won't give him what he wants. At least not anytime soon. So that leaves us with our current Jace," Isabelle said, regarding her brother. "Not much you or I can do about it."

Alec heaved a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "She's the only one who can clear it out for him if he bothers to ask. What you can do is talk to her. Better hurry before we're called to the briefing."

"Sometimes I hate that I am the nice, approachable one," Isabelle teased, sighing dramatically as she made for the door and left.

* * *

Less than two minutes later, she came to a halt outside of Clary's assigned room, knocking on her door, half-expecting Jace to be there as well.

"Clary? You in there?"

Clary'd finally stripped out of Isabelle's clothing, taken a long shower and was in the middle of drying her hair and preparing to climb into her pajamas when a knock sounded on the door.

Isabelle.

Clary quickly slipped into the stripy cotton shorts and top and wrapped her hair up in the towel, then called for her to come in, that it was open.

Isabelle opened the door and slipped inside. From the looks of it, she was alone, which suited Isabelle perfectly at the moment.

"Sorry to interrupt," Izzy said, meaning it because Clary was clearly just out of the shower. "But I need to ask you something important. Jace has… expressed a desire to come with us on the Vegas mission, and I need to know what you think about that. Brutal honestly is what I'm asking for."

Clary had figured that Isabelle would stop by about the briefing as she'd promised she would before in case things changed, but it wasn't what came out of her mouth.

Clary frowned and then shrugged, confused about why Isabelle was asking her this particular question. Wasn't that something they should be discussing among themselves?

"I'm okay with it."

Isabelle shook her head, moving over to Clary's bed and taking a seat, making herself comfortable. "No. I need you to really think about this and what it means. I assume you've noticed Jace is fairly… overprotective when it comes to you?"

Unless people usually treated her like that, in which case it may have gone over her head.

Clary hadn't thought anything of the way he was because the guy had been pretty intense since the moment she met him. She figured it was part of his personality.

The way Isabelle addressed the question made her think otherwise.

Clary dropped onto the edge of her mattress, curled one leg under her body and slid the towel off her head so that she could dry the ends of her red curls. "Is there a problem?"

"More of a concern, really," Isabelle admitted, feeling honesty was the way to go here. They needed her to trust them, after all, and being shady rarely helped such aspirations. "Just between us girls, Jace seems to me a little distracted since we met you." Isabelle held up her hands in defense before Clary could interpret her wrong. "Not your fault and not a problem in of itself, it's just that… with certain feelings involved a simple mission can quickly become more complicated. I want you to know that Alec and I will never let anything happen to you. We will protect you to the best of our abilities, and to be honest, our abilities are, well, spectacular." Isabelle grinned, though her statement was quite genuine. "Still, Jace feels it would be better if he came with. And what I am asking is how you feel about it all? What would make you feel safest? Which option would better help you stay calm and focused on the mission you are already working." Two fingers gently tapped the side of Clary's head in indication of her memory, and Isabelle smiled softly. "Brutal honesty, please, because it's important."

Clary didn't know what to make of her revelation, flattered and simultaneously frightened.

She had to admit that she liked the guy and she'd even go so far as to say she considered him a friend. The plus was that he was handsome. They didn't always get along and at times he could be distracting, but not in a way that had been pushy or made her think that it would hinder a mission – her mission.

Clary thought she used him in that sense, happy to take his company over thinking about her mother and where she could be despite Clary's suffocating helplessness. All of it could become too much.

Clary continued to scrub at the ends of her hair, sweeping them through her slender fingers, brushing them off her shoulder when she'd convinced herself she'd done enough.

On one hand, she could see what Isabelle was talking about concerning being focused, and on the other hand, as much as Clary liked the brother-sister duo, she'd come to rely on the latter as a substitute Simon. Even though the two were as contrary as night and day.

"I don't know what concerns you guys are worried about, what he'd done that's out of the norm or you feel might hinder my mission or yours, but…" Clary was still in the midst of thinking it over and without any clue on what to do when her emotions were springing back and forth. She raised her ragged index nail to her mouth and spoke around it, "Maybe we should stick to the original roster. You, me and Alec. It's just a recon anyway, right?"

Her emotions were hard for Isabelle to read, mostly because they seemed to change from moment to moment at current. At least judging by her facial expressions and that fingernail she continued to insist abusing every time she felt nervous.

"It is," Isabelle confirmed, though it felt more like Clary was asking for her opinion now. "But it's up to you, Clary. What's best for you? We still have to get The Heads' permission for Jace to come, of course, if that's what you decide, so I can't promise anything."

Clary had never experienced this kind of pressure before, and with everything Isabelle'd told her, it kind of suggested that there was something attached to it.

"How's it up to me when it's the three of you who usually do your missions together? I don't want to come in as a replacement or make things awkward for you guys." To think that Clary had and they'd noticed made her feel a certain way. "If you think we can handle this with just the three of us, I'm good with that, and if not… I'm good with that as well. I'll still be working on jogging my memory anyway."

"Your mission is to remember and to learn," Isabelle said gently. "And we want to make that as simple for you as possible. That is the reason I asked. Nothing more. It's decided then?" She got to her feet, casting a glance at the time on her phone, expecting a summon any moment now. "You, me, and Alec."

There was a relief in that and the fact that they cared enough about Clary.

But was it her or the fact that they were impatient about the Cup's location and wanting to do away with distractions for that purpose? Like when you shut a kid away so they could concentrate.

Clary tried not to think of it like that or to feel guilty about nodding her agreement in what she'd decided. She wasn't really doing anything wrong, was she?

"Briefing time?" Clary got up, took the towel with her and strung it over the handle on the open window on the inside so it could dry.

"Soon, I expect. I'll stop by again if there are any news. If not, I'll see you bright and early in the morning."

Isabelle gave her a brief smile, then left her to her post-shower rituals, heading back to her brother's room to inform him of what they'd discussed.

"Alright," Clary replied once she reached the door.

Clary smiled back and as the door shut made her way back to bed, pulling free the covers so that she could crawl in beneath them. Once she was comfortable, she freed up her sketchbook beneath the mattress and began to draw.

* * *

Alec didn't move from the chair after Izzy left, he felt lazy and still a bit tired. Mostly, he reckoned, it was coming from the uncertainty around Jace and the girl. Alec truly didn't know what was best for both or either. He suspected it was still too early to know anything, even for Jace himself.

He let out a long sigh, resting his head against the chair's back, closing his eyes.

He wished he could be wiser.

Isabelle stepped into Alec's room where everything was as she'd left it, including Alec himself.

"Clary said she'd be fine with just you and me," she revealed. "Though she seemed a bit uncertain. Mostly about our motivations, I wager."

"Yes, sounds about right," he murmured lazily. "Because neither of them knows what and why they feel. I get it when it's the mundane girl - mundanes live their whole lives without knowing themselves. But Jace…" He pondered and jerked a shoulder in a shrug. "He's always been impulsive and apt for changing moods, so now it's more evident because deep down he's confused. Jealousy confuses those who aren't meant to let it in. It's misplaced. It's human. Mundane."

"It's hard, Alec, not being so in control of one's emotions as you are. You were always exceptional at it, even as a child." She crouched at his feet, folding her arms over his knees. "I envy you that sometimes, big brother."

Alec gave a soft laugh with a ghost of bitterness. "You think it's easy? You think I have a switch? I don't. But no one needs to know I don't. Especially not those we fight against."

"I never thought it was easier for you than the rest of us. I just think you're strong," she said, chin atop her hands, gaze briefly glimmering with admiration. She'd always aspired to be like him, after all. "You know, you're probably right. This thing Jace has for Clary is temporary and he'll be his old self again in no time. Who knows? Maybe even a few days apart will do the trick?"

Alec didn't feel strong as she praised, sometimes not at all. He had always felt he wasn't doing enough. He had to do more, to be better, much better than he was at any given moment, and it was a burden of its own. He realized it, but couldn't pull any switch on something that was encouraged among their best warriors: always strive for perfection.

He pushed the thought away and opened his eyes to look at Izzy.

"We don't know. It could do worse because Jace doesn't know what it is but reacts sharply, impulsively and forcefully. He could never quite rule down his passion, and that girl is like gasoline to his fire.

"So no, Izzy, we don't know what way is best. And even my bond can't help me decide."

"Well, it's not really up to you and me, is it?" Isabelle reasoned. "Mom and Dad wants him here for a reason. How often do they yield to our suggestions?"

"I'm not sure they know, either. However, I don't see any reason they wouldn't encourage their pairing if the girl gets initiated. They would like him settled and mature."

Isabelle barked a laugh and got to her feet. "Oh, our parents are in for a world of disappointment."

She couldn't imagine Jace ever 'settling down'. Nor herself, for that matter. Alec, maybe, but she secretly worried it would be for the wrong reasons. Duty, not love.

Alec smirked. "You don't know that. He might surprise you. Although they'll be even happier when you pick a mate and stick to it."

"Never gonna happen, big brother," she said, amused and pleased by his smirk. It was so rare for him to smile. "Love is dangerous. Can break you worse than any battle."

Alec made a tsking sound, still smiling. "Mundanes say that while never knowing the love they dream about - unconditional and boundless. And we're taught that love is the ultimate power in the universe, the life force."

Isabelle wandered, idly examining the books on his shelves. "I know love. I have love. You. Jace. Mom. Dad. Max. That's all I need. You won't break my heart." She paused, turning to look at him. "Do you long for a mate? You think about that kind of thing?"

Alec looked at her as if she punched him with that question. "No, I'm not thinking about it."

"Never?"

It wasn't such an outrageous question. Most Shadowhunters found their mate at some point, married even. And her brother was quite a traditionalist.

Alec spread his arms with a surprised expression, "Why, is it so strange to you that I'm not sitting around daydreaming about finding a mate? I don't see you longing for that, either."

Isabelle smiled. "I never said daydreaming. I asked if you ever think about it. I mean, it's what everyone will be hoping for eventually, isn't it? That we find someone from a good family, get married, and make more Shadowhunters?" She fell silent a moment, musing. "I wonder what Mom and Dad were like before they got together."

After her earlier It's not happening, it was rather contradictory to describe mating as some endgame. "Not everybody is meant to be mated, Izzy. It's not a goal. It's a mere possibility, a choice."

"If you say so." And yet, at times it felt almost expected. Or maybe their parents simply wanted the same for her as they did for Jace — to settle down.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door and Maria's voice sounded from the other side. "Alec? The Heads are ready to see you and your sister."

Isabelle shared a brief look with her brother before she strode over and opened the door. "Let's do this."

* * *

The Heads were waiting for them: Maryse by the desk and Robert standing by the window.

"Anything new to report concerning the Fairchild girl and her possible knowledge of The Cup's whereabouts?" Maryse asked.

Alec exchanged a brief look with Izzy, and shook his head. "Not as of yet. She's been recovering from the stress, I would think, and hasn't provided any new details or hints."

"I see," Maryse said, slightly disappointed. "From what we've gathered about her, she seems to be drawing her inspiration from drawing, much like her mother, an artist. We believe she would have more chances to unveil her memories by indulging in her art as a sort of meditation, we presume, she uses it as. She has, however, spent some precious time in our training gym instead. Was it her own initiative?"

"Yes, she wanted to try her hand at something, and Hodge humored her."

Maryse perked an eyebrow. "What has she picked?"

"Hodge offered shuriken, but she showed no talent to it. Later she tried a pole, and I'm not aware of her progress on that one."

"For her first time she wasn't awful," Isabelle chimed in, standing at Alec's side. "In fact, in hand to hand combat she shows potential."

At least from the little she'd seen. It was in Clary's blood, after all. A power waiting to be harnessed and developed just as their own had.

"Potential or no potential, she is still a civilian," Maryse reminded. "And you will treat her as such during this mission. She is not to be out of your sight, do you understand?"

Isabelle nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Maryse continued, "Now, we have had contact with witches in Las Vegas who have agreed to help cloak Fairchild once you are there. Until then the runes will have to do. But that is no guarantee Valentine won't find her. We have to assume he has allies of equal power to ours."

Isabelle's gaze drifted to Alec a little uncertainly. "Well, about that, we had an idea concerning the Mortal Cup. The only reason Valentine is hunting Clary is because he believes she knows of its whereabouts. If someone were to find the Cup, he would have no use for her."

She continued to explain the reasoning of Alec and Jace's thinking, adding her own plan to the mix and pausing every now and then to allow Alec to fill in the gaps. When they finished, both their parents were regarding them silently. Isabelle couldn't read the expression on their faces, but she knew they were considering the potential 'distraction' their children had offered up.

"It's not a bad idea," Robert said after exchanging pensive looks with Maryse. "But it would take some efforts to fake locating and claiming The Cup. It's a matter of time before the Circle realizes that Fairchild is not in New York anymore. But we can't say how much time. We can buy some if we fake her presence here."

"Is that why Jace has to stay?" Alec asked. "To be a part of that? He would be in a lot of danger – as soon as the Circle thinks we have The Cup, their attacks will get more vicious."

"He won't be alone in that, Alexander," Maryse said. "He's a skilled warrior and is capable of providing a distraction here while you do your job in Vegas."

"His argument, however, about us three being a team and about our bond is reasonable. We have been trained to fight together and be more effective through our bonds."

"That is true," Maryse said, looking bored with the useless debate. "But what is your assessment of his effectiveness when around the girl? She seems to have disrupted his focus while being around him. Is that correct?"

Alec drew a deeper breath, feeling uncomfortable. He didn't know the answer. None of them three knew it.

"He finds her interesting and fascinating as someone who's meant to be like him but was raised as a mundane. He likes her and tries to help and protect her. None of those things are bad, but there might be a potentially dangerous tendency of him being distracted by her safety when around her. But in his defense, I can say that it's a normal scenario when we have to protect someone who cannot protect themselves. It does pull our focus, but a good warrior has to manage."

Maryse's thoughtful gaze shifted from Alec to Isabelle. "And your assessment, Isabelle?"

"I see what Alec sees," Isabelle admitted, not enjoying talking about Jace without him being present to defend himself, but also unwilling to lie to her parents and commanders. "I think he has an attachment to Clary. Whether that will help him protect her or hinder him is hard to say. But what I do know is that we fight best as a team. We always have."

* * *

Alec had told Clary that she was wasting her time with training, that she should be drawing, that she should be trying to crack the lock on her memories, and yet the only thing she was sketching was a doodle of Snoopy. She added some faded wings to his back and a seraph blade to his fingerless hand. He looked ridiculous.

She ripped the page from the book, crumpled it up and threw it toward the foot of her bed.

She heaved a sigh and closed her eyes, trying to focus, to remember what her mother's face had looked like the last time she saw her, and found that even that was difficult. Clary saw her every day for the last eighteen years, how it was it possible to forget something that important?

She snuck out from beneath the blankets, dug around in the drawer she'd filled earlier with her belongings, and freed up the photo she'd taken from the house, a picture that had been snapped by Luke after one of their dozen art gallery viewings, a tradition they'd fostered for years and maintained less frequently this year.

She ambled back over to the bed, sat down and studied the picture, feeling tears sting her eyes. She set the sketchbook on her stomach, let her eyes sweep closed again, and eventually drifted off.

* * *

"I take it Jace has requested to come?" Maryse continued, and if they looked closely, there was the slightest hint of a smile on her lips. She knew him well. She knew them well.

"He has."

She shared a quick look with her husband, the two of them silently communicating. They said no more on the matter, probably still considering the outcome, and Robert spoke:

"The Vegas headquarters are small compared to our Institute, with only a dozen or so Shadowhunters stationed there at a time. You will be meeting with a David Townsend, who is currently in charge of all the delegates sent to Las Vegas from the Los Angeles Institute run by Helen Blackthorn and Aline Penhallow."

They knew the names. The Los Angeles Institute was the largest in North America and therefore well known to them. Isabelle had never visited, though.

"You will, of course, be reporting to us but David Townsend will arrange for your housing and more detailed information of everything that has been happening in Nevada these past few months."

"As for the distraction, we will have to think it over and account for all possible options and ways it could serve in our favor or against it." Maryse looked at her husband, then between them. "Jace is staying for now, but it doesn't have to do with his attachment to the Fairchild girl. He's useful for the missions here while we're investigating the Circle and their way of tracking the girl. He shall be of assistance, and then we shall revise. He will be informed."

Alec nodded.

"From what we have observed, he tends to distract her as much as she distracts him," Robert said, his mouth twitching with amusement, gaining a look of disapproval from Maryse who probably didn't see that particular opinion fitting to be voiced to them. Robert pretended to not notice. "We are willing to see how it serves them both to stay apart for a bit. Also, it's a good training for you as parabatai to work apart."

Maryse spoke her part: "Given we have the assumption that the Circle uses Jocelyn's blood to track down her daughter, we might need Clarissa to lend us some blood for possible decoy. Our allies among mages shall see what they can do with that. We better do it now so she can sleep off the possible fatigue. Bring her to our infirmary, Alexander, before she goes to sleep."

Alec nodded. "Will do."

Assuming they wanted to dismiss Izzy at a later moment, Alec bowed and cast a parting look at his sister before leaving the Office to do as he had been told.

* * *

It was quiet behind the Fairchild girl's door; she had probably gone to sleep. But it was an order, there was no way around it.

Alec knocked.

Clary hadn't realized she'd fallen asleep until another bout of knocking echoed around the quiet of the room, she'd been trying to meditate or at least what she thought was similar to it.

Is it time to go already?

She raised her head off the cushion, swiped the drool that had accumulated in the corner of her mouth, and frowned, wondering if she'd heard wrong or if she'd imagined the noise.

"Come in," she called softly, unsure.

She wasn't beneath the covers, she was on top.

At least she wasn't asleep so Alec didn't have to barge in and shake her.

He came in and gave her a quick once-over from the threshold to assess if she was dressed.

"The Heads want you to give some blood for possible tricking the Circle. You need to do it now, so you have this night to recover if dizzy or anything."

"How much blood are they planning to take?"

She scrubbed at her eyes and straightened up, swinging her legs off the mattress, wondering if Isabelle was behind him or if he'd come alone. He appeared alone.

He shrugged, slightly amused at her wariness. "Don't worry, you won't be drained and wither. It's a safe amount. Get up, let's go."

"You're not the one that's going to take my blood, are you?" she teased, wondering how much he'd enjoy inflicting some pain on her for all the misery she appeared to put him through.

She slid off the mattress, dug free a sweater to pull on over her pajamas, and started for the door. "The infirmary?"

"Yes."

He followed her out and led the way through the corridors. She had been living here for two weeks, but barely learned where to find the needed halls.

She closed the bedroom door behind her and followed him out into the hall, finding her eyes wondering toward his backside before guiltily darting toward the ceiling.

She sucked in a breath once they reached the infirmary, folding her arms across her chest as a couple of eyes turned toward her, and one of the assumed doctors or nurses, or whatever they were called, ushered her over.

He gestured for her to sit down and then began to prep her arm. He barely warned her before he inserted a needle and filled a few of those tubes. They looked like what she'd seen at the hospital—not for herself—but the times Simon had been so desperately sick as a kid.

When he was done, he said something to Alec, and then headed to the other side of the room, dismissing her.

"This should be enough," Sam said, stopping next to Alec shortly. "Take her to the cafeteria, they know what to give her to recuperate." Alec nodded and returned to her side.

"That's it?" Clary asked.

"No, you need to drink to feel better." Alec gave her an ironic once-over, the smallest of smirks touching the corners of his mouth. "Think you can walk?"

She pressed a finger to the spot the needle had been, surprised to find that it hadn't even really bled and that it wasn't sore. She earned a lollypop and a Band-Aid for that, didn't she?

She chuckled and eased to a standing, finding her head to be a bit cloudy.

She reached for Alec instinctively to brace herself, wondering just how much they'd taken, and if those tubes were deceptive. Could they really have taken that much?

"I've never had my blood taken before but I'm pretty sure it's not supposed to be this… airy." She waited a beat until the lightheadedness passed and then proceeded for the door. "What's the plan?"

Sighing, he refrained from rolling his eyes and supported her by the arm when she grabbed for him. She looked a bit paler than usual, but not to the extent of passing out, he reckoned. He hoped not. "Cafeteria. So can you walk or not? Should I look for a wheelchair?"

"No, I don't need a wheelchair," she retorted with a touch of hollow indifference, although she supposed she should have found the proposition endearing, at least he cared enough to offer. "But that's also not the plan I was speaking of. What's the trick have to do with my blood?"

"It'd be used for creating a decoy while you'd be in another place." He made a step toward the door, pulling her with him by the arm. "Are you gonna walk with me now? You're stealing time from your own sleep."

"A decoy me?" Presently the idea amused her. "You guys can't make clones, can you?"

She took his arm and let him speed-drag her the rest of the way to the cafeteria.

"I don't think we need another one of you running rampant. So no, no clones."

He tried to let her pick her own pace, but that pace seemed to be more suited for a slug. A few times he pondered carrying her, but then imagined bumping into Jace and that wasn't what Alec would like him to see. He didn't want to catch that alien look in his brother's eyes again.

"You'd be so lucky," she joked uncharacteristically. She hadn't seen Simon in weeks and now she was beginning to channel his humor.

She broke away from Alec once they hit the cafeteria, helped herself to a juice and sucked it down. She tossed the bottle, helped herself to a water and then smiled lightly to let him know she was okay.

"Do you need anything else from me before I go to bed? A lock of my hair? A spit swab?"

Alec folded his arms, observing her like some particularly interesting bug while she went ahead to drink everything in sight. Her retorts amused him. "You'd be so lucky."

The glass with her cocktail was set on a tray behind him; he picked it and held it out.

"Drink this and you're free to pass out. In your bed."

She'd missed the drink he'd been referring to completely. She set the water aside, silently thanked him for the glass and brought it to her mouth, pausing before sipping at it to sniff the contents.

Not that she thought he'd drug her or anything.

She downed the drink as she'd done the juice, licked her lips and set the glass aside. "Happy?"

He peered at her, deadpan. "Not before you're back in your room, passed out." He waved a hand toward the exit. "Shall we?"

"We shall."

She didn't like standing out here in her short shorts, anyway, not that it really made a difference with the outfits Isabelle had given her over the last few weeks, but still, Clary felt exposed.

They walked back to her room in a surprisingly companionable silence.

"Thanks," she said once she approached the door and opened it, pausing with the entrance to let him know she was safe to see herself to the mattress from here. It wasn't as if she was injured. "See you first thing in the morning?"

It was nice she didn't collapse or pull any other stunt until they got to her door. Alec opened the door to her and shrugged. "You'll have to wait 'till the morning and see." He looked at her, gauging. "Feeling okay?"

"Tired," she replied honestly. "I'm sure that has nothing to do with the blood though and everything to do with today's workout, I'll be fine."

Her arm wasn't as sore as it was before, either, but it was still a bit iffy. Clary glanced at the floor as she stepped inside, swinging around to face him, using the hardwood as a temporary support.

"Goodnight," she murmured softly as a goodbye, letting him know he was free of her for the rest of the night, and then allowed the door to close gently before making her way back to bed.

He responded with a nod and strolled away as soon as the door closed. He felt rather tired himself now that he had a moment to become aware of it.

As soon as he reached his own bedroom, he stripped of his clothes, intending to follow her example and get some shuteye.

There was a possibility of Izzy or Jace dropping by with anything else they felt the need to share – it wasn't even ten PM yet – but that didn't stop him. Alec slipped under the covers and finally let his eyes close.

* * *

Isabelle always hated when these meetings ended by dismissing Alec while keeping her a few minutes longer, because more often than not it was to chide her for something she had done wrong or to try and impart the importance of her job to her like she was a particularly slow child.

To her surprise and delight, this was not the case this time. Robert wanted her opinion on a new pathologist in the lab, whether he was pulling his weight and if he proved to be as skilled as The Academy had promised. After a few minutes of assuring both her parents the newest addition to the team was exactly what their Institute needed, Isabelle was dismissed, as well.

Assuming Alec would have told Clary everything she needed to know from the briefing, Isabelle headed for her room to get an early night, undressing and removing her makeup before crawling into bed where she fell asleep almost at once.

* * *

Alec woke before his alarm, which happened more than often, and reluctantly left his bed after texting Izzy to get the Fairchild girl when she was up. He showered, meditated, then went for an early breakfast. When he was back in his room, it was eight in the morning, and Jace was waiting at the door.

"I know you tried to get me in on Vegas mission," he said and pulled Alec into a short hug. "Thanks."

He followed Alec inside and sat on a chair as Alec checked whether he had packed everything.

"Seems like we're gonna pull that stunt with the fake Cup," Jace said, fiddling with his knife. "We'll see how fast they track us. If they do, we'll know it has to do with blood."

"Unless it's just magical surveillance."

Jace frowned, pondering that. "Yeah… in that case, we'll have to check the perimeter for any wards or magical alarm. They could be using that. Then it's nothing to do with blood."

"Or could be both. Just be careful, Jace. Don't let your guard down."

"Have I ever?" Alec gave him a look over his shoulder and Jace laughed. "I'll be at my best. Maybe once I'm done here, they'll send me after you. I had that impression after the briefing."

Alec chuckled. "Good luck with that."

Alec hauled the bag onto his shoulder, and Jace stood, his hand landing on Alec's shoulder with a squeeze. "Good luck to you all, too. Don't let your guard down – I won't be there to save you." He laughed as they went for the door, knowing it usually happened the other way around.

* * *

Isabelle was already up when Alec's message came through, fixing her hair and applying her daily makeup, already dressed and nearly ready for departure.

When finished, she headed for the cafeteria and filled two trays with various breakfast foods, balancing them precariously on the way to Clary's room, and thumped at her door with a boot rather than knocked. "Clary? You up?"

When another something rocketed against her door, Clary shot up into a seated position, hair frazzled, gaze blurry from the wavering sleep she'd been dealing with all night. She'd tried to draw for a bit again after Alec had left and fell asleep, then she'd been woken by a nightmare and tried again, and eventually she was back to drooling. The whole night had been spent going back and forth between wakeful and unconscious. Every little thing waking her up. A breeze, turning to roll from one side to the next, the book dropping on the floor – along with the rolling pencil she'd kicked accidentally. She'd jotted it down to anxiousness and was feeling no better now.

Clary no longer had her phone so she didn't have a state on the time either.

She pushed the sheets off her body, navigated the stuff she'd dropped clumsily and moved toward the door to open it. "It's morning?"

Or maybe she'd come to fill Clary in on the briefing. It took her a second to realize that Isabelle had trays in her hand and that she was dressed. Clary scrubbed a hand against her eye and stepped back so Isabelle could come inside.

"It is," Isabelle said, amused by the state of her hair and the way her eyes couldn't quite seem to focus. She pushed inside and set one of the trays down on her nightstand seeing as Clary's bed and sheets were still rumpled. Clearly she had woken the girl.

"How'd it go last night?" Clary asked

"It was fine. I assume Alec filled you in?"

"On the trick? Yeah, he… they took my blood last night."

Clary walked over to her bed and pulled it straight, trying to make it half presentable so Isabelle could sit down, and then picked up her sketchbook and pencil, sliding the latter between the pages.

She set it aside and headed to the dresser, peeled free some clothes she could wear for the day and stuffed the rest into the glitter bag she'd unpacked it from.

Who knew if she'd ever be coming back here? This place wasn't exactly her home and who knew what they'd accomplish in Vegas?

Isabelle nodded in acknowledgement of the blood thing and took a seat on the foot of her bed with her own tray, taking a sip of her orange juice before starting on her toast, breaking off a piece and dipping it in the soft boiled egg.

Clary rubbed at her eyes a few more times when her vision didn't clear and then proceeded to get dressed. "Are we leaving now?"

"As soon as we've eaten, yes. We're taking a portal to the headquarters in Vegas."

"And here I thought we were going to be driving there." Clary laughed. "Or flying."

She hadn't even considered the portal. She zipped and buttoned her jeans and inspected herself in the mirror, finally satisfied that she was looking more like herself and less like a walkway model on steroids.

Not that there was anything wrong with Isabelle's style — she looked absolutely gorgeous, Clary just wasn't comfortable in the heavy displays of skin or the major heels. She thankfully hadn't had to fight a lot, wearing them, or she might have ended up breaking her neck. Clary sat down on the bed neck to her, pulled on her sneakers and flopped back down onto her back to catch her breath, the task of being up so early and ready to go more exhausting that she figured it would be.

"Your stamina is awe-inspiring," Isabelle commented with a smirk, breaking off another piece of bread.

Clary cast a glance at the tray that Isabelle was picking at. "Did you make the breakfast?"

"No, not today. No time to indulge my hobbies. But I'm sure I can make you something in Vegas," Isabelle said hopefully. "I doubt they have a cook considering they are so few."

In between bites, Isabelle pulled her phone from its holster next to the daggers secured around her thigh and shot off a text to Alec. 'She's up and ready. Breakfast, then we go.'

"Goodie," Clary retorted supportively, recoiling at the thought. She hoped the place didn't have a stove or microwave. She prayed that it didn't. From what she'd learnt, most Institutes didn't actually run on electricity since there was no way to link them to the central board without showing up on some curious human's radar.

Clary rolled over, crawled behind Isabelle until she reached the top of the bed, and claimed the second tray, easing one foot to the floor while she ate.

She finished breakfast quickly.

She set the tray aside, got up to add the last touches – which was to brush her hair – and once she was done, stuffed it into her bag with the rest of her belongings. She used the messenger bag for her sketchbook. "I'm ready. Is Jace going with us?"

"No. Not yet anyway," Isabelle said, gathering their trays and rising to her feet. "He has work to do here. If he finishes early he might join us later. Would you mind taking these to the cafeteria while I fetch my bag and brother?"

She held the stack of trays out to Clary, pausing by her door.

Clary nodded gently, not at all feeling the relief she thought she might have. "Not at all."

Clary slipped the messenger bag strap over her head so it could rest against her thigh, propping the glitter pink bag on top against her hip and moved to take the trays from Isabelle. "Should I meet you guys in the control room when I'm done?"

"Yep. See you in five," Isabelle winked and sauntered through the hallways to her room where she grabbed her suitcase and turned off the lights. She didn't have to knock on her brother's door; he was just closing it behind him and stepping out with Jace when she reached his room.

"Morning," Isabelle greeted them both with a smile. "Ready, Alec? Clary's waiting for us at the control center."

"He was born ready," Jace jibed, giving an appreciative once-over to her outfit, donning a wry smile, while Alec couldn't help a frown of brotherly disapproval. "Nice. Vegas will be at your feet – if you let them see this at least for one blink of an eye."

"That wouldn't be wise," Alec put in, walking down the corridor while they strolled behind him.

Isabelle grinned, giving a twirl to accentuate the cut of her dress as they walked. "Come now, brother. You can't hide me away forever." Teasing, because his disapproval amused her so.

"Don't tempt me with a dare like that," Alec threw a smirk at her over his shoulder and rounded a corner, listening to their chat.

"You doing the Cup switch?" she asked Jace as they followed Alec towards our destination.

He nodded. "Yes. Just as soon as I've seen you lot off."

Jace's answer made Alec tsk. "Not really as soon as," he corrected. "They have a lot to prepare: the double, the rune, the glamor magic, the cup itself and the plan—"

"Yadda-yadda," Jace said; Alec could see him roll his eyes in his mind. "Don't be so detailed when it's not your actual job to build those details out, brother." He turned to Izzy, a slanted complacent smile tugging at his mouth. "We'll get right to it, what I wanted to say."

Maryse Lightwood was in the command center already, waiting to accompany them to the portal chamber. Her face was pinched in annoyance: Clary was not yet there.

* * *

There had been an accident in the cafeteria. Clary's fault.

Since there was still a fog in her eyes and she'd been unable to wake up properly, one of the other Shadowhunters had collided with her and things had flown. Thankfully, none of the breakfast had landed on her, but the person in question hadn't been as lucky. She'd tried to wipe them down, apologizing profusely but all her attempts had only been met with a deep scowl and an insistence that she let them take care of it. She apologized again, set the trays back where they were meant to be and excused herself, practically jogging to the command center, practically running to get there so that she wouldn't be late. Apparently, she was, because everyone was already in there and Maryse wasn't looking pleased.

"Sorry," Clary murmured, the only greeting she mustered. "Accident."

Maryse waved her off without a need for an explanation, her gaze temporarily transfixed on the glitzy bag on Clary's back.

Isabelle barely restrained an amused smile when Clary came bustling in, looking stressed and flustered. There was an adorable charm to this girl. Not that anyone but Jace and Isabelle seemed to think so at the moment.

"Let's go," Maryse said, taking the lead towards the portal room. They trailed behind like the obedient children they were; Alec first, Isabelle close behind, and Jace side by side with Clary.

The portal room was a place of beauty with numerous crystals that sparkled in the light, all of them vital to the creation of the portal itself.

The portal room set up sounded like something Clary'd expect from Stargate once it started up – nowhere near as loud or dramatic as the show – but close enough.

"This portal is different from the one you've seen in our library," Isabelle whispered to Clary. "It will take us exactly where we need to go through a connection with a portal at the headquarters in Vegas."

"You're to report here once you arrive and get settled," Maryse said, Jace standing beside her eyeballing Clary with his favorite mysterious smile that got under the girls' skin.

Izzy and Alec nodded, and then the room began to vibrate subtly, the crystals ringing in the softest of tones. The air between them wobbled like in a mirage.

"Godspeed," Maryse said behind them as they walked in.

Clary glanced at Jace as she shadowed Alec and Isabelle into the lit space, offering him the smallest of wave goodbye and before she knew it, they were on the other side, greeted by an envoy waiting on their arrival.

A small one, a smaller constitution than what Clary was used to.

She could swear the entire journey had taken no more than a literal second.

The moment Alec and Isabelle made it through to the other side, Izzy cast a glance over her shoulder to ensure Clary had followed. Satisfied she had and that she was in one piece, Isabelle turned back to face the small gathering of people ready to greet them.

"Alexander and Isabelle Lightwood," one of them said, a blonde woman in her late thirties. "Welcome to Las Vegas."

Her smile was small but genuine, and unlike the others who were hovering behind her, she didn't strain not to watch Clary with a curious gaze.

"If you'd please follow me, I will show you to your rooms so you can put your things away before I introduce you to David Townsend."

"Thank you," Isabelle said, gesturing that she lead the way.

"My name is Sarah," the woman said as she led them to their room after we exited the elevator. It looked like any other hotel's corridor. She stopped at a door, producing a card she slid into the lock, and pushed it open. Then flashed them a brilliant smile. "Get settled, get some rest. If you need anything, just call me – I'm your go-to host for the time of your stay, along with our leader, David."

"Thank you, we shall," Alec returned her smile and waited for the girls to enter before he followed. Sarah nodded and began to walk away. He closed the door and strolled into the living room.

It could be a hotel room at Palazzo or The Venetian. Alec wouldn't tell the difference. The living room area in the middle separated two bedrooms, one and two beds. They had their own bathrooms. There was a small kitchenette to the right of the entrance hall. That meant their lives were in danger when Izzy decided to use it. Which was very soon.

Alec picked the room with one bed and dropped his bag there at the window. The windows were impossible to tell from the real ones, however, they were screens with a projection of the real view of The Strip. Their room was deep underground beneath the Luxor hotel. That much they knew from doing their homework before coming here.

The institute was by no means a shabby place to live for two weeks but this particular place just had spectacular written all over it, like they'd taken whatever was upstairs (Clary assumed) and replicated it for below.

She didn't touch anything once they slipped into the suite, afraid she'd accidentally break something. There was no way in which she'd have to pay for it and she doubted she could get into her mother's life savings.

After inspecting the layout with Izzy and Alec, Clary set her clothing and messenger bag down on the bed furthest from the door in the two-bed bedroom. They'd even replicated a view. Clary guessed, it was to keep whomever stayed down here from feeling claustrophobic or so that people knew very little of where they were.

She checked the bathroom out of curiosity and then wandered into the main living area again.

"What happens now?" she asked once one or both of the Lightwood siblings appeared from their own inspections.

"We have to report back and talk to people," Alec said. "And you can stay here for now and rest if you need it. If you want to go into the city, we have to check it out first and see about your protection spells."

Clary wasn't planning to go anywhere unless they told her to. She'd seen the risk at the apartment and wasn't planning to put anyone else at risk, especially when they'd put something in order to act as a diversion. "I'm fine here."

She glanced around and knew she would be, as the suite was cozy in that 'you could never afford me' kind of way. She walked over to one of the couches and sat down, testing the cushioning because she could, and then got up again so that she could head to the room she was going to be sharing with Isabelle to get her sketchbook and pencils.

She was here to work on loosening memory fragments, so why not start now?

Isabelle threw her suitcase atop the bed next to Clary's, made quick use of the bathroom facilities, and headed out to meet up with her brother again.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask one of the people out there," she said to Clary as the girl passed her by, gesturing to the front door. "I'm sure they will be more than happy to help."

"Thank you," Clary replied kindly, offering the two a wave as she wandered into the depth of the newly minted bedroom and all its glitziness. She grabbed her glitter bag and tossed it to the floor, moving to sit on top of the cover, opening her messenger bag so that she could remove her art supplies.

Seeing nothing he could add, Alec headed out and waited for Izzy before closing the door and plucking the card out, feeling no discomfort in locking the Fairchild girl alone. He deemed that room the safest place for her to be at the moment.

* * *

David Townsend turned out to be a young man of small stature and with a lean frame. Alec towered over him by at least two heads. Yet he had a powerful presence that vibrated with authority, and it was no doubt who among them was in charge.

He welcomed the Lightwoods into their control center, two men whose names Isabelle had already forgotten hovering behind him. David smiled when he saw the siblings.

"Alexander Lightwood. Isabelle Lightwood. It's an honor to meet you both." He held out his hand for them to shake, which they did in turns.

Their command center was smaller than the New York Institute's - according to their status - but very comfortable for work, nonetheless. Their day was starting later than what Alec was accustomed to because the city was mostly living at night. Demons weren't straying too far from mundanes' rush hours.

"Thank you for having us, David," Isabelle said, replicating his kind smile. "I hope we can be of some help."

"I'm sure you will be," he replied, gesturing for them to gather around a circular table in the middle of the room where he drew up holographic maps of the city with a system similar to their own in New York. "Now let me fill you in on some of the things that have been happening lately."

His fingers moved beyond the map, manipulating the energy projected until several pictures of what appeared to be charred bodies were displayed to them. David looked between them and the images with a grim expression, trying to gauge their reaction.

Isabelle'd seen things like this before and much worse, so the sight of twisted, agonized human remains didn't have such a visceral effect on her anymore. And yet, she couldn't help but sympathize, imagining what it must have been like to be in their place. "These are the ritualistic killings you spoke of?"

Alec scanned the crime scene pictures and police reports they put on the holographic screens. Due to the early hours, there were just two people with the guests while others were either sleeping before their shift or still on it.

The images were horrid enough, however it struck Alec as a work of a human. Be it a witch or someone else supernatural, it was not a demon's job.

"Yes," David responded to his sister's question. "Police - or rather FBI - rule it out as ritual killings because there have been five already. There was one at Mirage, but rather a copycat. Not the same perpetrator."

"Did you examine the crime scenes yourself?" Isabelle asked. "Was there any residual demonic energy?"

"We did," David confirmed, "and yes, our scanners picked up on demonic energy but not enough to make us believe the rituals were performed by demons or used to summon them."

Isabelle folded her arms across her chest, frowning.

"So then what did you mean when you told the Heads of New York there have been increased demonic activity in the area?"

"There has been," David said, pointing to the crime scene photos. "And from our calculation it started just after the first body was found."

"If those killings were meant to draw demons to our dimension through that dark ritual," Alec commented, "then it was a success and couldn't have failed."

"That's true," David said. "And seems like that was the goal. It's like they're gathering an army or preparing for something. We need to find out where the neck is that keeps growing all those biting heads. It's like hydra: however many we cut off, more come up."

Isabelle sighed and shared a look with Alec, wondering if the idea Valentine might be the cause had popped into his head too. However brief. "So where do you propose we start searching?"

David shifted the holograms, sending the photos away and bringing the map back to the forefront, this time with several markings all around the city. "These are the spots where we've responded to attacks the past few weeks. So far we don't see a pattern in where they pop up, but maybe you'll have better luck."

"Send those to our phones, please?"

"Of course," David nodded and got started on just that.

Isabelle looked to Alec again. "Want to do a sweep of the streets?"

"Of course."

Alec swept a cursory look around. Their training room with weapons was also smaller than theirs. As for food, Alec reckoned they used mundanes' services of delivery. Which allowed for less personnel.

"We can go now." His bow was on him, the sword also clipped to his belt; they took the weapons with them when they left the room and Fairchild in it.

"As you wish," David said. "We're a call away. I shall report to your Institute and wait for our night shift to return."

"Thank you," Isabelle said in response to David's assurances and headed for the elevator they'd informed them was to be used as the entrance and exit of the headquarters. She waited for Alec to get in with her, then used her stele to scan the panel above the buttons, and they were off. It didn't take long before the doors opened and they stepped out into the lobby of Luxor Hotel.

Their Institute was quite big and a lot of people were walking around busy with their tasks, but it wasn't even close to a crowded hotel on The Strip.

Alec missed his home already. There were too many mundanes around for his comfort. They couldn't see them, but at this moment, Alec wished it would be mutual.

Her brother was in a terrible mood already, Isabelle could tell, all because of the excessive crowds of mundane tourists. She didn't mind so much. It was kind of exciting getting caught up in their buzzing energy, their excitement of being in 'Sin City' and what might happen here.

She led the way through the throng of people, allowing herself to admire the view of the hotel that looked more like a golden luxury shopping mall, unable to keep the smile off her face despite Alec's sour mien. "It's so pretty!"

"Oh please," he muttered, making enormous efforts to not bump into any mundanes who never watched where they were going even if he was visible to them. "Nothing humans make can get close to Idris beauty. All this is like… some decoration for a movie, a pretense, a decoy for all of them to spend as much money as possible and go home with nothing. It's just a façade, Izzy, like demons put on to fool mundanes."

Isabelle rolled her eyes, though she wasn't surprised by his reaction. "There are different kinds of beauty, Alec. Just because I like this doesn't mean I find Idris any less beautiful."

She led him out of the lobby and outside, just in time to see the sun rise over the top of the many buildings of the city.

"See? Beautiful. Now, where do we go first?"

Alec wasn't going to argue about the kinds of beauty, or anything else, really. He checked the information they sent to their phones, then took a look around the streets. "Let's just take a stroll and see if any demons run in the open, or maybe we can still spot some trace. And then we still have to return back to see about that witch we had to meet, whether it's still going to happen."

He slid sideways to avoid colliding with a middle-aged man hurrying somewhere. Alec looked after him with an irked sigh.

"Why do you look at them like that?" Isabelle asked, following his gaze to the retreating man before sharpening her focus, watching the streets ahead with more intensity. "Like mundanes were put on this plane to make your life hell. It's not their fault they're ignorant." She paused, reconsidering. "Well, not entirely."

Alec returned his eyes to her. "Let's not debate about what is or isn't their fault, because it never gets us anywhere good."

He shook his head, looking around at the city that didn't want to wake up with the sun, and started to walk up the street. Thankfully, less people running around made less problems in navigating.

Isabelle fell silent so to better take in the surroundings and the people occupying the streets, trying to gauge whether any of them were wolves in sheep clothing, so to speak. But she saw nothing. And her pendant lay dormant atop her chest.

"This feels pointless," she murmured to her brother after about ten minutes of silence, trying to keep up with him and his freakishly long legs by taking huge strides with her own. "Like looking for a needle in a haystack."

"It's not pointless to look around a new place and learn about your surroundings. We're not in Kansas anymore, Izzy. It's not about locating demons right away, but about getting an idea of the city outlay.

"You can go back and report to the Heads, if you wish, though. Or help Clary draw. I won't be long."

Isabelle shot him an 'Are you serious' look, snorting. "I'm not leaving you alone out here." Not because she didn't trust him to take care of himself, but more due to the possibility he might find some fun without her should she leave. "Besides, when we report back I'd love to have something more to say than "We made it and it's sparkly here"."

Alec chuckled, starting to walk again - avoiding mundanes was much easier while moving. "That 'more' of yours worries me."

"Everything about me worries you," she countered with an amused smirk, slipping between two drunk mundanes in a loud argument about pineapple on pizza. "Let's go inside," she suggested, gesturing to a casino up ahead called The Treasure Chest. "There's bound to be a lot of anguish and misery in a place where mundanes lose all their money. Demons will love it. Like a buffet."

"You're right, but it's too early in the morning for a burst of gaming problems. This city wakes up when it gets dark, so when it does, we have to be ready."

They took a stroll along The Strip, all the way up and then down along its other side. There were some traces around the casinos and hotels, some around the nightclubs now closed until dark, but it wasn't unusual, aside from being more obvious than back in New York. But it was Vegas, after all, there was bound to be a difference.

There wasn't much to see of the supernatural variety and when they finally decided to head back Isabelle was glad of it. Even though this city was very different from the familiar streets of New York, there was only so much sightseeing she could muster before mind-numbing boredom set in.

They returned an hour and a half later with a takeout for all three of them, despite Izzy's insisting on cooking something 'real nice'.

"Clary! Food!" Isabelle called once Alec unlocked the door and let them inside, setting the bags of takeout on the parlor table near the sofa.


End file.
